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Prologue
May 2, 1998 marked the end of the Dark Lord’s terror. Harry Potter, deemed a hero to the wizarding world, was one among many left to forge together the broken pieces left in the aftermath of Albus Dumbledore’s quiet scheming. Maybe most puzzling in the years preceding Voldemort’s demise was Dumbledore’s heavy reliance on Severus Snape: Death Eater turned spy for the Light. Despite his efforts, havoc had already been unleashed: countless lives lost, many more maimed irreparably.   The Council of Fate was left to assess the damage: What horrors would have ensued without the sacrifices Severus Snape made along the way? Yes, the Dark Lord fell as Dumbledore predicted, but was the cost worth the product of his efforts?This price was determined to be too high, they could not overlook the dwindling survival of those gifted with magical abilities. Their intervention was decided: aid the man responsible for the success of the Light. Prevent the Dark Lord’s ascension. Travel back, and undo what had already been done.

Book One: Severus

Severus Snape was far from ordinary. His time spent in the wizarding world was testament enough to that fact. He was tall, and lanky. Thick curtains of hair often obscured his face from those around him. He was powerful. Another fact backed by proof in this world of his. He excelled in classes, particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. Yes, at 15-years old, Severus Snape was far from ordinary, and yet he had grown accustomed to the awe-inspiring wonders of the magical world that surrounded him. With the start of his fifth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry in full swing, he had expected some sort of nuance in his daily routine. Alas, the days were a woefully long stretch of uniformity, down to what he ate for breakfast, and the singular friend he seemed to speak to less and less.
 
Today was much the same as the last: Toast for breakfast of course, Potions with his fellow Slytherins, begrudgingly sitting through another poor excuse for a Defense Against The Dark Arts instruction, followed by a lunch spent catching up on schoolwork. Lunchtime today, however, marked the end to his monotonous days at Hogwarts. 
 
Regularly fixing his hooked nose into a book rather than engaging with the Slytherins he shared a table with, it took Severus a fair few minutes to look into the eyes of the newcomer seated directly across from him. Fair skinned, with even fairer hair, she could have been a Malfoy. Severus would have easily assumed so, had her choice in attire been any different. She still wore her customary Hogwarts robes and Slytherin tie, but her white shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a band T-shirt, tie wrapped loosely around her neck. She’d forgone slacks, and instead opted for jeans. Her feet were tucked into combat boots that seemed entirely too big for her. 
 
Severus was staring and so, he realized, was she. 
 
“Good book, huh?” she mused.
 
Her face was placid. She’d look bored had her eyes not glinted as she had spoken, like she’d told an inside joke. There was something peculiar about her eyes. The hue seemed to change from blue to green as she shifted in her seat, a gold ring around her pupil remaining the same. Her voice had the western lilt of the Americas, marking her even more out of place than Severus’ first observation.
 
“Apparently this is going to be a one-sided conversation,” she smirked. She looked far too sure of herself to be a new student, but there was hardly any other explanation for the sudden appearance of an individual Severus had never seen before. She stuck out too much to have been overlooked before.
 
“Is this not talking deal a Hogwarts thing, or just a you thing?”
 
“It’s not so much a ‘good’ book, but a necessary one,” Severus finally replied. Ignoring her second question altogether “What are you doing here?” he asked, weighing his words.
 
“Same as you, I ‘spose. Lunch.” She gestured to the food in front of them.
 
“Clever. You’re new,” he stated, rather than inquired.
 
“Super perceptive,” she said, eyebrow arching. She sighed, “I am new. Evidently barging in at fifth year is less than normal around here? My name’s Aurelia. You can call me Lia, though.”
 
“Hmmm,” Severus said. She was right. It was hardly commonplace for a new student to arrive past the first year. Transfers from other wizarding schools took place, of course, but it was rare.
 
“Do you know how conversations work? If you don’t, I guess I can wait a bit ‘til you work it out,“ she said, crossing her arms. Her fingers were covered in rings of various shapes and sizes.
 
“Did it maybe cross your mind that I brought a book to the Great Hall to avoid conversing?” he asked, returning his gaze back to his book.
 
The reading wasn’t actually necessary, but it did often prove to be a welcome distraction from the ruckus around him. Still, he wasn’t about to give someone he had just met the satisfaction.
 
“Maybe conversing with those idiots, but you didn’t know I’d be here now did you?” she asked, gesturing to herself, a smile playing at her lips. Again, that shift in her eyes from green back to blue. 
 
“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” Severus replied, not looking up
 
She huffed another sigh, 
 
“You, Severus Snape are going to make my job very difficult. You know that?” 
 
She left without another word. He watched her departure from the corner of his eye. He was evidently not the only one confused by her arrival, as the rest of the Slytherins at his table began whispering only after she’d fully exited the Great Hall.
 
It was only as the Great Hall began to empty out that Severus realized he hadn’t given his name to her, which he assumed meant he was going to be the brunt of a joke, or worse. Someone had clearly given her his name, and sent her to let his guard down.
 
He was seemingly found correct when he exited the Great Hall and found the four regarded as “The Marauders” standing just outside. Severus could feel himself internally rolling his eyes at the very thought of their self-appointed group name. How ridiculous . 
 
Less ridiculous was the inherent danger Severus knew he could find himself in if he drew too much attention to himself. One against one was all well and fine, but four against one provided less than thrilling odds, as he unfortunately knew all too well. Luckily, the leader of the pack seemed just as distracted by the new student’s arrival as everybody else, only confirming Severus’ suspicions: she was conspiring with them. James Potter had her cornered, hand against the wall on one side of her head, looming over her. 
 
“You know, Slytherins aren’t really my thing. There’s just something about you, though.”
 
Severus supposed it was his attempt at flirting. He took this diversion as an opportunity - quickening his pace, and keeping his eyes down, he turned towards the nearest corridor to make his escape.
 
“Oi. Snivellus. Dripping grease all over the lunch offerings again? Fairly certain the house elves don’t need your additions to the food,” a voice called
 
A cold rush of fury shivered down his back, Black.
 
“Losing my appetite just witnessing him that close to the food,” James Potter belted out, turning his attention from the new student, and following up his comment with feigned retching sounds much to the amusement of his friends. Flirting was apparently secondary to the chance to verbally assault Severus.
 
He continued on his way despite his blood boiling. A faint crack, however, caused him to prolong his getaway. Anticipating an attack from the Marauders, Severus was shocked to find Potter and Black sat on their asses and covered in green boils as he turned around. A look to the left unveiled the culprit: Aurelia - Lia - stony-faced but for that arched brow, twirling her wand. She winked at Severus as she turned on her heel, and walked away.
 
Curious. 
 
Severus Snape’s next few encounters with the girl followed the same formula: her polite, if snarky, attempts to engage with him, followed by some stunt leaving his would-be torturers worse for wear. 
 
The end of the following week was where young Severus hit his breaking point. He had secluded himself in the far corners of the library, concealed by stacks of books, only to look up a moment later to find Lia sitting across from him. Again. 
 
“Really?” He snapped. “Can I help you, or are you going to continue following me around until I die from annoyance?”
 
“Hmmm. That would be an interesting one to see, don’t you think? I don’t know anyone that’s died from annoyance. Just think! I’d probably be famous if you really did,” she jested. “Has it occurred to you that I might actually want to be your friend?” She continued. 
 
“No.”
 
“You really need to work on that confidence, Sev,” she said.
 
“Don’t call me that. We aren’t friends. I hardly know you. You could very well be at the beck and call of Potter and his band of idiots,” he barked, gaining him scathing glances from the few students that had wandered into their vicinity. 
 
“Now Sev,” she said, ignoring his comment altogether, “I think we both know that lot is too stupid to come up with a long con like that.”
 
She had lowered her voice, finally. Her face was dimly lit by the sconces on the neighboring wall.
 
He let out an exasperated groan. “I’m trying to finish my divination assignment. Leave.”
 
Her eyes shine at that. Sly smile playing on her lips, she said “Let me guess. Great and terrible things are in your future?”
 
He stared blankly at her
 
“Wait! Let me try again. You’re going to be a potions professor at Hogwarts when you grow up!” She continued, standing to peer over at his parchment.
 
“Or better yet,” she exclaimed “headmaster! Well? Did I get it right?”
 
He dropped his head into his hands.
 
“Is this ever going to stop? Can’t you just leave me in peace?”
 
“‘Fraid not,” she said matter-of-factly. 
 
And thus their friendship was reluctantly solidified, much to Lia’s satisfaction and Severus Snape’s dismay.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Severus initially had no idea how Lily would respond to an additional member joining their planned study sessions. They’d often found a new length of Hogwarts halls to hole up in each time, only resorting to the Library when they were both stretched thin for ideas. These sessions had grown farther and farther apart this past year with Lily’s distaste for Severus’ newfound acquaintances. He wasn’t sure if her distaste held solely in the subject of Dark Magic, or a more profound distaste for any other Slytherins. When the three first scheduled a study session, his fears quickly shifted from concerns that Aurelia and Lily would hate each other to something much worse. What if they actually liked each other? What if they decided they could be friends without him? What would he do then?
 
Lily Evans excluded, friendships were difficult to come by for Severus. Gryffindors were a non-option, with the obvious exclusion of Lily herself due to their history, which left Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs. Hufflepuffs were… Hufflepuffs; friendships with Ravenclaws were more admissible, but there was always his Slytherin status hanging over his head. Crafting friendships with the regular students outside of his house had cropped up little-to-no success these past few years.
 
Slytherins were a bit of a different story. Recently, the groups had become more exclusive than ever with talk of a powerful wizard recruiting young witches and wizards to join his cause. Lord Voldemort, he called himself. Severus had considered joining that same cause if only because it seemed like his only option upon leaving school. He didn’t have the same connections his pure-blooded peers were awarded; why turn down what seemed to be his only option to be aligned with success, power?
 
Aurelia didn’t really fit into the mold of “regular,” however, and she certainly didn’t align herself with the Slytherins coveting a place with Lord Voldemort.  She rarely instigated a conversation that didn’t include a certain gleam in her eyes, and yet her face remained seemingly emotionless apart from that. Raising one eyebrow, or smirking were really the only instances the smooth planes of her face would shift. Her eyes conveyed everything, odd as they were. She was intelligent, though she seemed to hone that strength through her humor more than anything, rarely taking classes seriously, but still managing to get top marks. It had taken Severus some time to understand she wasn’t really making fun of him when she poked fun. That was just how she talked. Outside of her quips, her general demeanor was both validating and calming for Severus’ normally tempestuous attitude.
 
She was damn near a calming draught for him even in the face of his enemies. In fact, more often than not their encounters with the Marauders would end with Lia biting out “Fuck off, Potter we have better things to do,” followed by a wordless boils or slugging curse in his direction. She’d grab Severus by the robes and steer him away after that, nearly always avoiding the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall. 
 
Aurelia was unapologetically kind, yet undeniably fierce. When the two of them weren’t turning the tables on Potter and the like, she would inexplicably find time to comment on the strengths she stated Severus contained. She noted how he excelled in classes, and spellwork. She thought he was funny, she actually

laughed

at his dry jokes. She looked out for him, not that he needed to be looked after, as he often reminded her. 
 
It was strange. He didn’t think he’d ever had someone in his life that regarded him so positively. At least, not since Lily was sorted into Gryffindor in year one. As the weeks progressed, Severus felt lighter. Lily pulling back since the start of the year still hurt, but he didn’t feel forced to choose between just two unfortunate options: being utterly alone, or uniting with the less-than-stellar group of Slytherins he’d prospectively considered joining. 
 
No, now he had Aurelia. Even if he was certain she was hiding something from him, with her late-night disappearances, shifting eyes, and avoidance in discussing her own personal affairs. He would uncover those secrets soon enough, he figured. For now he was content knowing she wasn’t seeking his downfall. He could get used to this kind of friendship, though he’d never admit that outloud. Especially not to her.

“Oh my god enough already,” Lia groaned. “‘Lily’ this ‘Lily’ that. Your pining for her is too much. Just ask her out. Plant one on her. I don’t care at this point!” she exclaimed. 
 
They were in the corner of the library that had quickly become their favorite spot to spend time together. It was cozy and secluded, and as such acted as the perfect place for them to have the kinds of conversations Aurelia was so drawn to: anything that would make Severus uncomfortable.
 
“I will do no such thing. There is absolutely zero chance that would go well. Having her in my life means too much to risk that. No.” Severus replied, barely glancing up from the book he was pretending to be absorbed in.
 
“What if she feels the same way?” she asked. She was lounging across one of the library chairs as though it was the most comfortable piece of furniture on the planet, and not in fact a rickety excuse for seating.
 
“Unlikely.”
 
“Your self-deprecation is stifling.”
 
Severus rolled his eyes. 
 
“At least use a

different

word to describe her. If I hear you use the word ‘beautiful’ in the same sentence as Lily Evans one more time, I think I might hurl. Be more creative. I’d throttle a man that could only describe me as beautiful. In fact, I hexed Rosier the other week for doing just that.”

Rosier probably deserved it for other reasons as well.

“I use other words to describe her,” he countered, “I’m sure of it! And what’s so wrong with being called beautiful? It’s a compliment.”
 
“It’s boring.”
 
“It’s nice.”
 
“It shows a lack of creativity. Why call someone beautiful when you have words like dangerous, enigmatic, or engaging, or so on the nose as bewitching?” her eyes glimmered. “

Those

are compliments. I’d much prefer beguiling over beautiful. Any person would.”
 
“Yes, because being recognized as beautiful has to be so hard for you,” he grunted.
 
“Back to the plan at hand. Just say something to her for gods’ sake.”
 
“Your attempts to make me do things I don’t want to do are exhausting. Either be content staying quiet about this, or leave me to study by myself,” He replied, knowing she would do no such thing. 
 
“Sitting quietly while you agonize incessantly doesn’t seem like a

me

thing to do. Here’s what you’ll do: just casually ask her if she’d like to go to the Three Broomsticks this weekend. Slip it into the conversation. Easy!”
 
She made a motion like she was smoothing the air out in front of her, rings glinting in the firelight of the candles above.
 
“She’s already going to The Three Broomsticks,” he snapped.
 
“Perfect! You know she’ll say ‘yes.’”
 
“Who’s saying ‘yes’ to what?” Lily interjected, setting her books down on the table they shared in the library.
 
She had come from nowhere, leaving Severus to dread the thought of his conversation with Lia being overheard by her.
 
Lia’s upper lip twitched in silent delight, “Se-” she began.
 
“No one,” Severus bit out, “Is saying ‘yes’ to anything,” glaring at Lia from over his book. He hadn’t so much as turned a page since they sat down an hour ago. 
 
Lily stared between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.
 
“Severus was wanting to go to the Three Broomsticks this weekend, but I told him I couldn’t. Too much work to catch up on,” said Lia smoothly, ignoring Severus’ eyes boring into her.
 
“I would go!” Lily said. “It’s been so long since it was–” she glanced at Lia “Well, since it was just the two of us, Sev,” she finished sheepishly. A faint tinge of pink crossing her normally porcelain features. 
 
“Great! It’s a date!” Lia exclaimed, finally sitting upright.
 
Lily looked expectantly at Severus, who had a similarly pink hue to his cheeks now.

“That would… work,” Severus said hesitantly.
 
The air was thick with tension. Severus didn’t dare speak, for fear of his longing for Lily being made even more apparent. 
 
“So, transfiguration homework then,” said Lia, changing the subject, “We have to transfigure a sack of flour… into a flower?” she rolled her eyes.
 
Severus assessed the bag of flour sitting in front of him. His face scrunched into that of utter concentration, “Farro florem!” He barked, flourishing his wand with a flick of his wrist. 
 
At once the bag transformed into a red rose, complete with glinting thorns.
 
Lily clapped her hands together “Sev, that’s beautiful!”
 
Lia and Severus snapped their heads to face one another. Severus let out a low chuckle prompting Lia to slam her face into the palm of her hand. 
 
“Am I missing something?” Lily asked. 
 
“No. I think Lia is upset that her assumptions about normal human functioning were proven so drastically incorrect.”
 
“Oh fuck off, Severus,” Lia replied turning her attention to her own bag of flour she muttered “Farro florem,” and watched as a nightshade bloomed in front of them all. 
 
Severus and Lia turned their attention to Lily expectantly. She also repeated the spell, resulting in a white lily resting upon their table. 
 
“

Very

original,” chuckled Lia, “Well, we’re all professionals at this point I’d say. What now?”
 
“We’ve

barely

scratched the surface, not to mention McGonagall expects five scrolls on the–” he was cut off abruptly by Lily.
 
“We could go visit Hagrid. He always has some new story or strange creature,” suggested Lily, smiling to herself.
 
“Uh Lils, it’s getting dark? And it’s a full moon. Kinda risky don’t you think?” asked Lia, absentmindedly twirling her wand in her fingertips. 
 
It had almost shocked Severus the first time he saw Aurelia’s wand. Redwood of the deep west, with a Thunderbird feather core. Its bright appearance was eye-catching. 
 
“Why would that be an issue?” Lily questioned, perplexed.
 
“Just — never mind. Why don’t we find something to do inside the castle? There’s plenty of nooks and crannies to explore, no?” Lia’s face remained impassive, but he could tell she was subtly chewing on the inside of her cheek. Anxiously.
 
Severus’ mind was reeling at that, yet he decided to go along with Aurelia’s peculiar plan. 
 
“I’m certain I saw the Bloody Baron go down a corridor I’d never seen before in the west wing the other day,” he offered.
 
And off they went following his lead.

“Well?” Lia asked once Severus returned to the Slytherin common room. They were not alone, but far enough away from others to be left unbothered. She had clearly been waiting for him to arrive ever since he had departed for Hogsmeade earlier in the day. Severus might have been pleased by this had he not been battling his own demons at the present moment.
 
“It – she tried to kiss me,” Severus replied. There was color in his cheeks again. He looked positively embarrassed. The green glow from the torches on the wall made his already pained expression appear even more ghastly.
 
“What do you mean

tried

?” Lia asked, for once her face morphed into an expression of near horror. “Don’t tell me you

turned her down

?!”

Severus looked around the common room, avoiding the question. The walls were thick stone, and though the dungeons themselves were often chilled, the common room and dorms provided an elegant sanctuary for those in Slytherin house. He recognized after a beat that Aurelia was not going to let the matter go.
 
“Of course not! I just wasn’t expecting it!” he sighed in exasperation.
 
“AND?”
 
“It was… fine,” said Severus meekly looking around to ensure their conversation was still unnoticed by the others.
 
“FINE?!” her brows knitted together.
 
“Would you keep your voice down, and your excitement to yourself?” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hand. “She was interested, just like you thought. I suppose spending time with you so frequently at the beginning of this semester made her realize she was, well, jealous.”
 
“Jealous?”
 
“She thought we were interested in each other.”
 
Aurelia ignored that last bit - “So she’s interested in you. What’s the problem? I told you so,” she said, smirking.
 
When Severus’ only reply was glancing around the room

again

and rubbing the back of his neck she said, “Stop evading. What happened?” Lia was nearly standing on her chair at this point - hands on either end of the table, leaning in expectantly, eyes a funny shade of yellow.
 
Severus was struck for a moment realizing her face displayed more expression in this one conversation than he’d seen in the couple of months they’d known one another. He smiled to himself.
 
“This is funny to you? You enjoy torturing me, is that it?”
 
He finally gave in, “It just wasn’t what I had pictured. There wasn’t a… spark?” He shrugged. Seemingly unbothered by this turn of events.
 
Aurelia dropped her head onto the table with a

thunk

mumbling to herself incoherently. Severus nudged the side of her head causing it to loll over. There was a faintly pink mark on her forehead as she stared up at him.
 
“Maybe it’s for the best,” he said, “Maybe she and I can be the friends we were meant to be.”
 
It took everything in him not to start at the appearance of her eyes. Normally shifting between green and blue,

sometimes

more yellow, they were nearly white excluding the pupil. 
 
“I thought this was the fix,” she said. For a moment she seemed hopeless. As though this was the worst news she could have received. He was visibly worried.
 
Seeing his face, she collected herself, “You’re probably right,” she insincerely chuckled, shaking herself.
 
“Maybe this is for the best,” she swallowed. Her eyes faded to a neutral gray as she took a steadying breath. Another color he’d never seen, but a stark improvement to white. 
 
“Does this at least mean you’ll stop glancing after her like a lost puppy?” She joked, with the ghost of a smile.

That night, he did reflect on her question. Is this how he would feel for Lily now? Just like that, years of longing for her, gone? Replaced by stalwart friendship? Maybe. He cared for her, that was certain. Pining for her all these years made their awkward kiss perplexing to him. He’d felt nothing as their lips met at the iron gates to Hogwarts. She’d pulled him to the side before they stepped over the threshold to the castle grounds on their trek back from Hogsmeade. He’d expected fireworks, for everything to click into place. He’d at least expected to enjoy having her tongue in his mouth. He’d merely tolerated it, as much as it pained him to admit even to himself.
 
Had he really spent this much time wanting more from her only to find that their chemistry fell flat? He huffed a sigh as he turned over in his bed.

What a waste of time

he thought to himself. He still cared deeply for her, but something had definitely changed between them, that much was clear when he had pulled apart from her. The look of hurt on her face was difficult for Severus to endure. The walk back to the castle had been silent torture. 
 
Maybe this was for the best, as he’d said to Aurelia. They’d been growing apart ever since he’d brought up Lord Voldemort, the cause. It had gotten better these past months: Lia acting as a buffer whenever subject-matter stirred tension, but he still thought about the look Lily had given him when he’d brought up the topic of dark magic. 
 
“There’s a reason it’s called dark magic, Severus,” using his full first name, for the first time in ages. It was reserved only for reprimanding. A look of slight disgust flashed across her face before disappearing just as quickly as it had come. 
 
“Dark magic isn’t automatically evil, Lily. It just means it comes from a different source. Different consequences. Nothing is black and white. Certainly not magic,” he scoffed.
 
He had wanted to continue the conversation, but she’d immediately changed the subject, and continued changing the subject every time he tried to bring it up after that. He’d felt deflated by her repeated dismissal.
 
He couldn’t help but compare Lily’s reaction to that of Aurelia’s: “Of course Dark Magic isn’t just

bad

, Sev. It is dangerous though. You have to be careful with it, and skilled of course.”
 
It had been a night in the Library with just the two of them when he had bright up the topic.
 
Catching a look at his face, defensiveness, she followed up with “You’re skilled, Sev. I’m not saying you lack the ability. Definitely not saying you’re incapable. I do think it’s a bit odd that performing dark magic is a requirement to join this dude’s club, though.”
 
That statement had sent a jolt through Severus. He glanced around the corner of the library that had become their second home at this point in the semester. If a prospective Death Eater overheard her… 
 
“Like, why does this adult man need help from students? From you? You’re still in school. Seems weird to me. An adult with that much power shouldn’t need help from kids,” she’d continued.
 
“I’m not a child,” Severus fought back, a frown creasing his face.
 
“Again, not saying you’re incapable. I’ve told you a thousand times by now that I think you’re an incredible wizard. Eons ahead of the rest of this bunch we’re stuck with. He just sounds like a perv to me.”
 
Severus choked on a laugh.
 
“No seriously, he’s giving some Ted Bundy vibes and I am not here for it.”
 
Whoever that was.
 
That was the difference, he thought. Aurelia saw him for who he was. Lily saw what she wanted to see from him. There were expectations from Lily that were too far out of Severus’ grasp. He was never going to be the good boy, or a knight in shining armor. His armor was always going to be dented and dirty. He didn’t think she would ever be content with that. 
 
As he laid in bed that night, waiting for sleep to consume him, he reflected again that everything would just go back to normal between him and Lily. Maybe even better, now that he didn’t have that uncertainty hanging over his head. With that he drifted into a sleep so deep, one would suspect he’d taken a drought of the living dead. Really though, it was the first time in a long time he wasn’t plagued with anxiety about it all.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Things did not go back to normal between him and Lily. Every encounter thereafter was painfully awkward. Shockingly, the discomfort between them did not come from him during their encounters. The unpleasantness came solely from Lily herself. Her behavior seemed to range from open hostility towards Severus, a silently embarrassed demeanor (usually marked by hefty silences, pink cheeks, and shifty looks at Severus), or unpleasant jealousy towards Auriela of all people.
 
“Well I’m sorry I don’t get the joke,” Lily snapped, “I don’t take potions with the two of you. How was I supposed to know you were talking about Slughorn?” she huffed.
 
Lily had been in a state from the moment she had arrived at their rendezvous spot, just off the shore of the black lake, and had steadily gotten more irritating as the evening endured. It seemed that a pun about Slughorn’s slow movements in class had been the breaking point for the girl.
 
Aurelia and Severus shared a glance, their laughter cut off by Lily’s anger.
 
“Aw, Lil we really weren’t trying to make you feel left out. It’s just… Sluggish? As a nickname for Slughorn? Especially the day after one of his Slug Club meetings? The guy is usually a little off after a night like that,” Aurelia tried to explain.
 
“Oh, do you two have a problem with those parties now?” Lily asked, rage palpable in the air.
 
Severus’ eyebrows shot up, the only response he had for Lily at this point. Lia, to her credit, did attempt to placate Lily to no avail.
 
“I’m just going to study in Gryffindor Tower. Enjoy your little study date,” Lily said, flatly. She promptly grabbed her things and left the pair of them dumbfounded.
 
When she was certain Lily was long gone, Aurelia stared at Severus.
 
“What the hell did you say to her after you got back from Hogsmeade? She’s been about a centimeter away from blowing up at one of us every time I see her now!”
 
“Was I supposed to say something?” Severus asked paling.
 
“Dude you are so fucked,” she said intoning exasperation.
 
The following days, Lily made her distance more and more distinct to Severus and Lia. This came as no surprise to the pair. What did come as a bit of a shock was her steadily increased time spent with none other than James Potter. Two months ago, Severus supposed he would be deeply wounded by Lily’s desire to engage with Potter and his buffoons. Now he felt… disappointed more than anything he supposed. It helped that he had newer distractions afoot. His attention had shifted in focus to Aurelia. More specifically, what the hell she got up to on her evenings on the grounds. 
 
“What do you do out there?” He would often ask her.
 
“Out where? Do your homework,” she would regularly reply, jabbing a finger at his obviously-finished assignments.
 
Today Severus wasn’t placated. 
 
“On the grounds. I’m not an idiot. You’re up to something. Tell me what it is,” he pleaded. More than anything he wanted to know to make sure she was okay. Didn’t she understand that? He was shocked by how much he cared. When had that happened? When had his need for an answer shifted to knowing she was protected, rather than just simply wanting his curiosity sated?
 
“Sev, drop it,” Aurelia said, completely focused on the essay she was writing.
 
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
 
“What is there to tell?” She asked looking up only to wink at him.
 
“Stop being cute. I’m worried about you.”
 
“You think I’m cute? I’m positively flattered,” she deadpanned, “Seriously, just finish your essay so we can go eat something. I’m starving.”
 
They were in one of the rooms near the Great Hall for a study period before dinner. The smells of the impending meal easily wafted in, making it difficult to ignore. Her stomach had grumbled more than once with the close proximity.
 
Their conversation was interrupted by Crabbe and Goyle. The pair stood a fair bit of time, silently staring at Severus until the latter asked “Can I help you?”
 
“You think the Dark Lord is just someone you can walk away from, Snape?” Goyle asked. 
 
“You don’t just decide to leave the cause,” Crabbe added.
 
The two boys had grown distinctly in size over the past few months. Both stood at least a head taller than Severus, and with thick ropes for arms they were actually a bit intimidating. Their stature alone would have been enough for Severus to balk, but their threat about Lord Voldemort made his mouth dry up.
 
“We gave you a few months with this one,” Goyle nodded to Lia. “Figured you had different priorities for a bit. What are we supposed to tell Malfoy? He vouched for you.”
 
“I’m no longer interested,” Severus replied, attempting to look unbothered by focusing his gaze back at his parchment.
 
“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” said Crabbe. “You’ll be hearing from us. We gave you a chance, Snape. Don’t be an idiot.”
 
“Uh, fellas, get lost,” said Aurelia, her attention still on her parchment. She had to have at least three rolls done by now. How was she still writing?
 
Severus felt his heart drop into his stomach. 
 
It happened quickly. Wands raised and pointed at their targets. Curses lit up the study room. Greens and reds and blues finding their targets. Aurelia hadn’t even looked up from her work when she’d silently cast… whatever curses she’d cast at the pair from under the table. Crabbe and Goyle were incapacitated at the other end of the room. The other Slytherins in the chamber were staring between the two on the ground and at Aurelia who couldn’t be bothered to stop writing. 
 
“I think we need to get out of here,” hissed Severus.
 
“Fine. I’m done anyway,” Lia huffed. She rolled up her parchment, shoving it into her bag. Her attitude only darkened when Severus grabbed her by her upper arm and steered her out into the halls.
 
“Are you out of your damn mind?” Severus asked once they were a safe distance away from the study room, and Aurelia’s subsequent victims.
 
“No. I’m on a time crunch,” she replied. She seemed uncharacteristically agitated, distracted. She reflexively looked at the watch on her wrist and groaned “Stupid fucking Hogwarts. Why the fuck are electronics useless here? What’s the point of that?” she asked no one in particular. She had picked up her pace, now.
 
Of course her watch had stopped working the moment she had crossed into Hogwarts grounds at the beginning of term. Battery-operated, the magic of the school would render it useless. 
 
Severus grabbed her wrist in an attempt to make her slow down.
 
She whipped her head to him. There was fire in her eyes. Not really an exaggeration. Her eyes were swirls of tumultuous oranges and reds.
 
“Severus, I have to go. I have… other things that I need to do tonight. Just leave it, okay?”
 
“Might those plans include other nonverbal hexes, Miss Drake?” asked a pleasant voice behind them.
 
Strange. How was this the first time Severus had heard her last name? He’d spent nearly every day the past three months together, and he didn’t even know her full name? What else had slipped through the cracks? What else didn’t he know about his friend? Severus paled at the thought.
 
The pair turned. Fear bleached into Severus’ eyes. Aurelia stood stony-faced, as she faced their prosecutor. Her face had slipped back into its neutral folds, making her look bored as ever, like she hadn’t just used advanced magic to incapacitate two of her classmates. 
 
“Headmaster,” she drolled.
 
He stood before them with his hands gently clasped in front of him. He was very old, with a long beard reaching past his midsection, tied elegantly with a silver bauble. His hair was just as long, visibly trailing behind his shoulders, kept back with an embroidered fez in pale blues and silvers. His half-moon spectacles hung on his nose, giving his students no obstruction to his piercing gaze.
 
“I think the two of you ought to follow me to my office,” Dumbledore replied. A faint smile was over his features from the moment he had stopped them.
 
“Severus hasn’t been involved with anything this evening… and he has a lot of work to catch up on. He might as well head back to the common room, don’t you think?” Aurelia prompted.
 
“I don’t think so,” the headmaster replied, sweeping them forward.

As the two found themselves ushered into Dumbledore’s office, a palpable annoyance emanated from Aurelia.

Not the time for your snide comments, idiot,

Severus thought to himself. He hadn’t looked up from his hands since he had settled himself in a chair across from the old man.
 
Dumbledore’s office was something of a wonder. Books and magical objects lined the walls, not a bare spot in sight. Portraits of previous headmasters looked down upon the trio, waiting to watch onward as Dumbledore enacted his punishment. The room was lit by an otherworldly bluish glow, seeming to emanate from nowhere, and everywhere at once. Severus would have been awestruck had shame not dampened his interest in his surroundings. 
 
Dumbledore, despite Aurelia’s turbulent behavior, was smiling kindly, as was his norm. Severus could feel it radiating through him without even looking up, the man’s eyes were boring into him. No doubt, there was a twinkle in those eyes, as there usually was. 
 
“An impressive show of magic, Miss Drake. Did you learn this from your previous schooling?” the man asked. Severus whipped his head up at that.
 
Of course he’d known she had been to a different school before Hogwarts, but she had evaded every line of questioning Severus had shot her way. How much had she divulged to Dumbledore? How could she? Weren’t they friends?
 
“Something like that,” she replied with a bored sigh.
 
“Curious,” was all Dumbledore offered in return.
 
“Crabbe and Goyle were egging me on. Lia was just–” a sharp look from her stopped him in his tracks.
 
She uncharacteristically rolled her eyes at his blatant tactlessness. 
 
“What dear Severus here is trying to say,

sir,

is that I was not the first to raise my wand, and I wasn’t about to let those two hex Sev with whatever they’ve been cooking up in their little club,” she said this with an air of finality. As though her account would dispute any charges brought against them, and the headmaster would simply send them on their merry way.
 
Clearly she wasn’t aware that kind of leniency was saved only for the old man’s Gryffindors. 
 
“While I believe your story, silently casting on two boys with a curiously difficult boils curse does require some semblance of reprimand,” the signature twinkle in his eyes.

There it is,

thought Severus.
 
“Well

that is interesting

! Isn’t that just

so

interesting, Sev?” Lia asked. Her eyes seemed wild, her face flitted with anger. This was unusual. Her face, typically only broken by a smirk, raised brow, or slight furrow between her brows was epically tumultuous. Her voice was positively dripping with sarcasm.
 
“

Pray tell professor,

where on

earth

have you been the past few years while Potter

and the lot hex Severus into oblivion?” she asked, sarcasm drained, replaced by accusation. She dared to lean forward, resting her elbows on the front of Dumbledore’s desk, head resting on the backs of her hands in mock curiosity.
 
Severus couldn’t help himself: he whipped his head between Lia and the headmaster, before sinking back into his seat, attempting to make his rather lengthy frame disappear from sight. She had gone utterly insane, he was sure of it.
 
Dumbledore regards her curiously, slightly tilting his be-spectacled head.
 
“I assure you, Miss Drake, had Severus brought his concerns to my attention they would have been dealt with the same level of care I am giving the current matter at hand. I would, however, think

your

interventions this year might have more than made up for previous indiscretions.” 
 
He turned his wizened attention onto Severus then, half-moon spectacles glinting in the bluish light, tassel on his funny hat swinging with the motion.
 
“Mr. Snape, do you wish to discuss these incidents that Miss Drake has presented to me?”
 
Severus shot a quick glance at Lia, her face still tilted towards the old man’s face. 
 
“No, sir,” Severus replied meekly.
 
Lia whipped her face to Severus then, fury palpable.
 
“Are you fu—”
 
“Severus, Professor Slughorn will meet you in your common room to discuss proper consequences for this evening. That will be all,” said Dumbledore, interrupting her outburst.
 
Aurelia made to walk out with Severus, before “I believe, Miss Drake, that we have a few things to discuss before you depart,” Dumbledore said. He clocked Severus’ hesitance to leave, “between the two of us,” he finished. 
 
Severus met her eyes, a storm beneath her lashes, and she wordlessly nodded her head

go ahead

she seemed to say. So he did. Heart racing, stomach still settled in his toes, Severus rushed to the Slytherin common room to await his punishment.

What seemed like hours later, Aurelia finally returned. She seemed calmer somehow. Severus had been impatiently sitting in an armchair, not daring to leave the room for fear he might miss her return.
 “What were you thinking?” Severus groaned at her. 
She merely quirked a brow.
 
“Well? What did he say? How much trouble are we actually in now?”
 
“

We?

”
 
“The only reason you hexed them was because I didn’t have my wand out to protect myself!” Severus argued.
 
“Uh, wrong. They were being assholes. Probably would have done it anyway with the mood I was in,” she said, shrugging one shoulder.
 
“What did the two of you talk about then?”
 
“Always asking questions, Sev. I think that’ll stay between me and that old man for now.”
 
Severus dropped the subject for the evening. His punishment was a Saturday detention to be served cleaning cauldrons in the dungeons for Professor Slughorn. Aurelia hadn’t said what her punishment had been, but he had assumed it was worse than his for her rashness both with their Slytherin peers, and the headmaster himself.
 
The weeks slipped by after that, homework piling up in preparation for the middle of the semester. Severus was continuously distracted from his studies by the mystery of Aurelia. She seemed to give less and less about herself, and despite his misgivings, the pit in his stomach when he would think of that night, he gave her more of himself to her. Of course, he never brought up his intrigue to Lia herself, she would have abruptly changed the subject as she was apt to do. He knew at some point, his quiet deliberations about the subject would reach a breaking point, but for now he was fit to stew on them himself.
 
He found he really only had her company to revel in, and he was content with that. Their fellow Slytherins had distanced themselves since Lia’s attack on Crabbe and Goyle. Lily had made herself scarcer as the semester chugged along, opting to spend more and more time with her precious Gryffindors. Severus supposed he should have expected as much. He was shocked at how little it actually upset him. With Lia filling his days, he hardly noticed Lily’s absence.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Well, what

do

you want to go as?” 
 
Lia had gotten into the Halloween spirit as soon as September slipped quickly into October. Her excitement piqued the closer the holiday came. She had incessantly been asking Severus what he would dress up as, what the Hogwarts Halloween traditions were like, if there were any parties worth going to.
 
She was heavily disappointed to find the traditions were rather tame: floating jack-o-lanterns among the candles in the great hall, pumpkin-flavored desserts to be served en masse, the occasional pumpkin or skeleton-themed class lesson.
 
They found themselves sitting on the great lawn, spread out, basking in the dwindling warmth of early fall. Leaves whispered around them, the distant sound of chatter from other students only rarely reaching their ears.
 
“For the last time, Lia. I am not

going

as anything. We don’t do that here. We wear our robes, and ties, same as always,” Severus said with an exasperated sigh.
 
“We should at least do

something

. It’s my favorite holiday. I’m not just going to sit back and let it pass by without even acknowledging it. How can you not even do costumes? You’re fucking

wizards

, get into the spirit!” She exclaimed.
 
Severus was caught off guard by this. It was a rarity for Lia to share anything of her personal life. He could count on one hand the number of times she’d expressed a personal story, or memory from home out loud. Of course her favorite holiday was Halloween. Americans.
 
“Isn’t Halloween just a scheme for candy companies in America? Rake in as much money as possible?”
 
She tossed a quill at him.
 
“I think you just quoted a movie,” she chuckled to herself. Suddenly, her face scrunched together. She looked like she’d been caught in a crime.
 
“Er- I mean – maybe. Sounds like something from a movie I ‘spose.”
 
Severus regarded her then, brows crinkling together in confusion.
 
“I don’t get around to watching many movies, so that one went over my head,” he replied, hoping to ease the tension that had suddenly sprung up in her.
 
“I’m sure you’ll find something to do, and I’m more than certain you’ll drag me along to participate as well.”

A devious grin crossed her lips then. He knew he was in for it, and despite himself he grinned back.
 
The day before Halloween, Severus found himself being tugged by his robes into a passageway hidden behind a rather large painting. Ready for a fight, he pulled his wand.
 
“Put the gun down, John McClain!”

LIA

She had her hands up in mock surrender. Grin plastered across her face. Way. Too. Excited. What on earth had she planned? Severus dropped his wand arm to his side, slipping his wand into the pocket in his robes.
 
“John McClain? Another movie reference?” Severus asked, compressing his face into a question.
 
“You got it,” and though her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, it returned in full radiance as she detailed what she would need of him for the following evening.
 
He was listening intently, he swears! But he also couldn’t help noticing how close they were together, secluded in this dark corridor. Every now and again, her scent would breeze over him as she gave way to excited arm movements. Jasmine and saffron a woody, floral whisper to intoxicate him.
 
She snapped her fingers in front of his face. 
 
“My guy, are you even listening? I’ll need you in that corridor by ten

sharp

or else we’ll miss it and the whole night would be ruined. Now, I’ve made your costume and I expect, no

demand,

you to wear it. If you don’t, I’ll shrink all of your ties, and hex your shoes so they squeak incessantly.”
 
“Fine, fine,” he grumbled.
 
She grinned wider, clapping her hands together in excitement.
 
“We have to be careful. Obviously there’s curfew, but I think if we stick to the back halls we’ll be fine. Slughorn’s on night duty, and we both know he’s going to be absolutely smashed by the time his rounds start. He’s not going to be that thorough.”
 
She gripped his shoulders, and a flash went through his body.

Shit.

“Alright,” she continued, seeming not to notice the lightning bolt that had just erupted through him, “I’ll see you in Herbology in a bit.”
 
It took Severus a long while to follow her from behind the portrait. This could not be happening again. He must be doomed to live in torture his whole life. He had

just

gotten over Lily, and here he was, longing after another one of his close friends. 
 
“Glutton for punishment,” he mumbled to himself, silently stalking towards the greenhouses.

Halloween upon them, Aurelia made her excitement known by attending classes in her costume. She had stated she was dressed as a famous witch, but Severus couldn’t think of a single witch in history that wore a red crown, sleeveless leotard, and tights. Her look was completed by her successful transfiguration of her eyes, now scarlet, and a charm that caused her hair to swim above her head as though she were underwater. Severus was certain her cape was the saving grace that kept the faculty from assigning detention to her. That, or the excitement that seemed to radiate off of her.
 
The day seemed to pass by quickly. Lia’s good mood seemed to seep into those around her: Severus included. He couldn’t help but grin to himself as she enthusiastically explained her costume every time they arrived in a new classroom. Professor Flitwick was pure delight at the sight of her, clapping his hands together and marveling at her charmed hair.
 
As Severus had promised, a few of their professors had opted for thematic classes that afternoon: Slughorn instructing them to brew a potion that caused the drinker’s bones to be seen through their skin, McGonagall - surprisingly - had them turning spiders into pumpkins, Flitwick’s class was spent assisting with the decorating of the Great Hall.
 
The feast was, as always, over-the-top. Complete with huge pumpkins adorning the table. Rows and rows of delicious food laid out before them, pumpkins floating overhead, the ceiling of the Great Hall revealing a cloudless full moon above them.
That evening, Severus followed Lia’s detailed instructions. He carried with him blankets, a handful of potion ingredients, and - of course - his costume. Did she really expect him to wear this thing? It was positively gaudy. A red cape, nearly matching hers, blue tunic, gold belt, gold jewelry to match, and what could only be described as genie boots.

Merlin,

what was he supposed to be?
 
He met her in the hall she had described near the dungeons. It went rather deep down into the bowels of the castle. He had somehow never been down here before. It grew colder the further down he climbed. 
 
He finally found her, standing with her back against the wall. She was facing a gated door, with a smile on her face. She turned as she registered his presence, and her smile only grew.
 
“You. Look.

INCREDIBLE!”

she squealed, “Only one problem. We’ve gotta fix that hair for a bit. She tapped his scalp, and felt his hair shrink back into it. She pointed her wand at the sides of his head. He didn’t feel any change there, but he assumed she had done

something.

Finally, she tapped against his lips, and he felt hair spring up. 
 
“Perfect. Damn, I am

good.

”
 
“What the hell am I supposed to be?” he asked with feigned annoyance. He supposed he would have made himself a fool any day to elicit such excitement for her, but he had pretences to keep up and an appearance to uphold.
 
“Dr. Strange of course. I already told you I’m the Scarlet Witch.”
 
He scowled.

Strange? Is that what she thinks of me?

She grabbed a colorful, if thin, book out of thin air at that. She pointed to the cover, a man that he supposed

did

wear the same clothes as him looked back.
 
“Muggle thing?”
 
“Nerd thing. He’s a superhero. Kinda like a time wizard,” she smiled as though she’d told one of her infamous inside jokes. The ones only she has all of the context for.
 
“I thought it was only fitting that we still dress up as witches and wizards,” she said, grabbing another one of those books from nowhere. A woman with red eyes on the front of this one.
 
“Her story’s kinda sad though,” she said, not elaborating much more. She handed him the booklets for him to read at a further date.
 
“Did you bring the ingredients I told you to?”
 
“Of course,” he said, handing them over.
 
“Good. We’ll need to whip something up quickly, then we can join.”
 
He looked at her quizzically but she had already set to work, a cauldron appearing before them. She was right, the work was quick. Before he knew it, she was handing him a vial filled with bluish liquid.
 
“Cheers!” she said, downing her own vial.
 
She turned translucent, a specter. He followed suit, looking down at himself as his own transformation occurred.
 
“What are the blankets for?” he asked.
 
“In case we get cold,” she said as though the answer was obvious. 
 
She grabbed his hand and led him through the gated door on the opposite end of the wall. Speechless, he assessed the sight in front of him. There had to be at least a dozen ghosts in the room. They were floating above their heads, dancing. He glanced at Lia, utter joy spreading across her face at his shock.
 
“How fucking cool is this?” 
 
Pulling him deeper into the room she guided him into a dance of their own. He felt his hands grow damp: one in her hand, the other along her waist. He swallowed back his nervousness. She was laughing now, lost in their dance.
 
She was right, though. The room was absolutely freezing. Their breath clouded between them in smoky puffs. 
 
“What better way to spend Halloween, if not among ghosts?” she asked, smirking mostly to herself.
 
He knew he could do this forever. It felt like it was just the two of them, without a worry in the world. No social obstacles in his way, the warmth in her eyes, his hand in hers. He smiled unabashedly back at her.
 
After an hour or so, they finally slipped away from the dancing ghosts, sequestering themselves in a corner to remain undisturbed. They fell into a conversation of their own, the dancing previously leaving them too breathless to talk among themselves. Lia had opted to toss a blanket over the two of them.

Merlin, her laugh will be the death of me.

They sat like that for a long while, enjoying each other’s company, talking about everything and nothing at once. It was always so easy with her. She glanced around, seeing the ghosts had left them, the room dark save for the smattering of candles.
 
“Hmm. We should probably get back to our dorms,” she said.
 
He nodded silently back at her.
 
“Thanks for a positively perfect Halloween, Sev. It means a lot. I haven’t gotten to do something like this in… Well, it’s been awhile,” there was sadness in her eyes. In a flash it was gone, replaced by her ever-neutral mask instead. She kissed his cheek and rose in one fell swoop. He felt his heart racing at the contact.
 
“Shall we?” she gestured towards the door. 
 
He nodded silently again.

They had assumed the only obstacles between themselves and their dorms would be Slughorn’s inebriated presence. So it was quite the shock to discover Potter, Black, and Pettigrew sauntering in the halls as well. They were breathless, engrossed in their own private whisperings. They stopped abruptly when they realized they weren’t alone.
 
“Snivelus and his bitch, how delightful,” Black crooned.
 
“Genie convention get out late?” Potter added, assessing Severus’ attire.
 
Pettigrew snickered, utterly incapable of offering insults himself.
 
“Now

her

costume I can appreciate,” Black stated, eyes raking over Aurelia’s skin-tight attire.
 
“Go drool like the dog you are somewhere else, for gods’ sake, Black,” Lia replied.
 
Black and Potter exchanged a curious glance between themselves. Pettigrew paled.
 
“Dunno what you mean,” Potter stated, attempting to hide his concern.
 
“Sure, sure,” said Lia, a smirk lining her face. She grabbed for Severus again, turning him away from the trio.
 
“Too bad Lupin had to miss this evening’s festivities,” she added over her shoulder, “I swear that boy gets sick every month. Poor thing.”
 
They were rounding the corner to the Slytherin common room before Potter or Black could so much as respond.
 
“What the hell was that about?” Severus asked once they were securely inside.
 
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough. While I’m not the world’s biggest fan of those four, it’s still not really my secret to spill. You’re smart though, Sev. You’ll get it.”
 
She squeezed his hands in her own, and left for the girls’ dorms.
 
He was left to scrutinize her parting words alone.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Fall turned into winter, and subsequently marked the end of the fall term at Hogwarts. Severus would be returning to his home in Spinner’s End, much to his chagrin. Aurelia was headed back to the States to spend time with her extended family. She had promised to write, though. Disappointed couldn’t cover what he was feeling, knowing not only would he have to spend time with his mother and father, but also that he wouldn’t be spending every day with her as he had the entire term. His melancholia was unmistakable, so of course Aurelia brought it up. “It’s just a few weeks, Sev! We’ll be back at it in no time,” she offered him a wink. “Hmmph.” was all he said in return. Of course he hadn’t wanted that to be how they left things, but he certainly couldn’t find it in him to be anything but sullen. They had parted ways after Severus assured her she would not be meeting his mother. Why had she even asked? She had, of course, not asked if he wanted to meet her family, he realized disappointedly. She had disappeared from his sightline. The only glimpse of the Drake family he had spied was a tall man with graying hair cut close to his scalp and sharp features. He had none of Aurelia’s softness.  Severus was accompanied from Kings Cross by his mother, Eileen, though she would smack him upside the head if he dared to call her by her first name. Severus caught sight of Lily’s red hair among the crowd, and briefly wondered if the two of them would spend any time together during the holidays, as had been their custom in the past. So much had changed this term he wasn’t even sure if that much would be upheld.  He would not refer to Spinner’s End as his home. Hogwarts had held that title from the moment he first stepped foot onto the grounds. The rolling hills of Scotland, and the steep walls of the castle itself was nothing compared to the rundown street of his childhood. The house itself appeared unkempt, rickety, as though a good gust of wind could blow the whole dirty mess over. Inside, the walls were lined with well-used books, though the layer of dust covering them gave no indication of such. There were no magical objects in sight. Not one of the books on the many shelves contained a spell, recipe for a potion, or history of any magic. Tobias wouldn’t allow it.  This residence smelled like clutter, the kind of odor that would assault the nose upon walking into an ill-visited antique shop, or an old folks’ home. Severus hated this place, and yet his mother insisted upon his visit every break. For what, he had no idea. It’s not as though either of his parents paid him any mind while he stayed here, if only to reprimand him or ring him about the ears.  He climbed the steep staircase leading to the second floor of the building, seeking the solitude of his bedroom. His father was already drunk when they had returned from the station, not an auspicious sight. His room had very much remained the same for as long as he could remember. A twin sized mattress atop a creaking frame making a poor excuse for a bed, a desk shoved into the far corner, cracking paint along the walls, a nearly-barren closet. He sighed, easing his length onto his bed as it shrieked in protest. He wished more than anything he could go to sleep, awaking at the end of the holiday. He spent as much time as he could outside the confines of Spinners End, often wandering the streets aimlessly until dusk, knowing what would await him if he remained in that house for too long. He allowed his mind to wander. The bit of magic his mother happened to showcase was her knack for Legilimency. Tearing through his mind, his father’s mind at the first hint of some unsavory thought from either. His father remained oblivious to this ability of hers, but Severus had gained some kind of protection over the years: Occlumency. His mind was his sanctuary. He could lock himself there with his memories behind gated fences and steep walls only he could forge through. His walks through the cold streets often left him consumed with thoughts of Aurelia. He wondered what she could be up to, and whether she was enjoying her time away. He hoped she was, but at the same time he loathed the thought of her reveling in happy family gatherings while he was left to rot in his own personal hell. Though, he supposed that was just an assumption of his. She’d never actually talked about her family before. Severus also considered deeply the secrets she kept hidden, nearly everything about her, considering expulsion, or some sort of punishments as the push for her attendance at Hogwarts. He had yet to hear from her after nearly a week into the holiday, and with no owl of his own - another piece of the wizarding world his father would not allow - or money of his own, he had no real way to contact the witch. He had been sullenly considering this fact after returning one evening when he heard a rap at his window. A bright orange owl greeted him as he flung it open. She waited for Severus to remove the letter from her, and he obliged, swiftly untying it from her outstretched leg. The bird waited patiently as he read over its contents.
Sev,

Sorry it’s been a bit longer than I promised you - I know I told you I’d write every day. Things at home have been hectic - more so than I had thought they would be. I miss you greatly. DON”T YOU DARE BLUSH. How is home for you? We have that much in common: neither of us really talks about back home very much, huh? Does your family do anything fun for Christmas? I’m out of the country right now, but hopefully I can come visit once I return to England, if you’ll let me of course ;)
 
Either way, I’m looking forward to seeing you again. Stay warm over there, and don’t forget about me, ‘kay?

Fenrick should have a bit of an early Christmas gift attached. I hope you like it.
 
All my love,

Lia.
He looked quickly over at the bird still perched on his windowsill. She did indeed have a smallish package that he had overlooked in his excitement. He promptly untied that as well. Ripping open the gift revealed some set of muggle devices he’d never seen before. Luckily, Lia had provided instructions, complete with a labeled diagram which included detailed instructions on how to use the headphones, disc, and CD player she had provided in the parcel.He smiled to himself, and obeyed her instructions before writing her back. The player had fairly straightforward buttons to help him where her directions stopped. He was startled when, upon pressing the triangle marked ‘play,’ that music came out of the headphones.

Lia,

I am glad to hear from you. Returning home is always difficult, and I gravely miss Hogwarts. If I didn’t have my pride to protect, I might tell you that I miss you as well. We have no holiday traditions to speak of, save a dinner of some sort. My mother isn’t one to decorate, or make an extraordinary affair for something like Christmas, and my father shows very little interest in most things. The 25th of December is no different.

Tell me about your family, what traditions do your relatives celebrate?

I cannot guarantee you a particularly marvelous time visiting me, and can nearly guarantee an unpleasant time should you visit Spinner’s End itself, but I would be glad to see you before we return to Hogwarts.

Sincerely,

Severus

He attached his own letter to the bird, and sent her off with a bit of the leftover dinner he had concealed on his way up to his room. He vaguely thought of how she had signed with love, which made him feel warm, but also a little guilty for his own hesitance to return the sentiment. Severus lost himself in her gift in the following days. Somehow, she had touched his soul with it. A clash of symphonies he had never heard, reflecting what he felt was the two of them. He knew that was how she had hoped he would read into it. The music helped the days pass with much greater ease. Christmas approaching didn’t seem nearly as depressing with her presence beside him.  They exchanged letters a handful of times after that, the longest break occurring in the days leading up to Christmas itself. On Christmas Eve, he was thinking over tomorrow, what would likely mark a somber day spent trapped between his mother’s glare, and his father’s dead eyes when he heard another tap on his window. He had expected to find the orange bird greeting him, and in the shadows of the evening he hadn’t realized that a bird was not staring through the panes of glass, but a person.  “ Lia?!” He shouted in a whisper when her face greeted him.  He ripped the headphones that had been resting over ears for the past few days off of his head as she climbed inward  “Howdy, Sev,” she said smiling.  While he knew her smile for him was genuine, she looked tired and drawn.  “What are you doing here? If my mother finds you, we are as good as dead.” “Guess she can’t find me then! Fancy a trip out? I want to show you something.” His response was cut short, but the creaking sounds of his mother ascending the stairs. He shot Lia a panicked glare shifting his eyes from his closet, to the space underneath his bed. She rolled her eyes at him, smiling all the while and covered herself in an invisibility cloak he hadn’t realized she was holding. Just in time, the girl blended into her surroundings as Eileen opened the bedroom door.  “Severus. I heard talking,” she accused, looking around the room.  She was a rather tall woman. Waifish, and pale, with muted black hair. Severus supposed that’s where he had gotten his looks. One look was all you needed to know she had lived a hard life. There were circles under her eyes, and while her face was lined with telltale signs of aging, she bore no smile lines, only the ghosts of grimaces.  “A friend sent an owl,” Severus lied smoothly. His gaze was fixated on his toes, like they were the most interesting thing in the world. He felt a prickling sensation inside his skull, a telltale sign that his mother did not trust his word, and was therefore scouring his mind. “Don’t let your father see,” was all she said before she turned on her heel out into the hall.  Severus had always been caught between his father’s disdain for all things magical, and his mother’s abhorrence for the Muggle world. Incapable of so much as reading anything related to his wizarding life, but banned from enjoying simple pleasures like television. His mother was right, though. One glimpse of an owl of all things would be enough to send his father into a fit of drunken rage.  Severus let loose a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Aurelia shook off her cloak, giving him a somber smile. She couldn’t know the extent of his family relations, but a good look at the interaction with his mother and the bareness of his room would be enough for her to make her own assumptions.  “‘Kay, ready to go,” she asked him in a whisper. His eyes flashed to the door. “She’ll never know you’re gone. I’ll make sure of it. Come on , it’s part of your Christmas present to me anyway.” He relented, and suddenly the two were climbing out his window into the cold night.

He wasn’t sure how she had managed it. Portkey after portkey they took, with more than a handful of interruptions for sightseeing, but very few obstacles along the way. Christmas lights, and giant spruce trees decorated in gigantic ornaments, and bustling cities filled with carolers and last-minute shoppers. He was sure they’d traveled hundreds if not thousands of miles in a matter of an hour or so. Aurelia kept suspiciously quiet the whole time, though her hand scarcely left his - not that he would complain.  The last portkey pulled them into a thicket of isolated woods. He could sense they were not alone here, and Aurelia swiftly wrapped them both in the invisibility cloak she carried with her. She placed a finger up to her lips, a silent command. She was grinning, of course she had been all evening. This was something deeper. His heart tumbled in his chest, and he realized he would break himself over and over just for a chance to see her smile like that at him again.  The trees were filled with the smell of smoke, a musky, earthy scent. Slowly, they moved through the trees. Aurelia’s movements were swift - she had been here before. A warm glow appeared through the trees: the source of the smoke. There were people gathered around a huge bonfire, relishing the heat, the light it cast. They were decked in merriment, adorned with crowns of fir sprigs and holly. They sang low, smiles on their faces, hands outstretched to the stars above.Severus was just about to ask Aurelia what they were doing here, when he noticed a figure in the fire. The shape of a man, burning brighter than the wood ever could. The flames rose high, and the figure mirrored those surrounding him by raising his own hands to the heavens. Then they all began to glow, alit in flames, radiating heat. Their skin began to turn a bright yellow, smiles never leaving their faces, but voices steadily becoming more and more ethereal.  Stealing a glance at his friend, he noticed her eyes filled with tears. Sorrow, but why? She brushed the droplets from her cheeks, and gave him a pained smile.  The group before them ascended, taking to the skies as glowing, winged creatures, and suddenly Severus and Aurelia were the only ones left by the fire. She squeezed his hand. “I know you have questions, you always do. Just… not tonight, okay?” “Of course,” was all he said as he squeezed her hand back. “Thank you for coming with me. I needed to be here, but” she gave a shuddering sigh, “but I didn’t know that I’d be able to do it the way it needed to be done without you here.” They returned to Spinner’s End in the early morning of Christmas. As promised, Severus evaded his mother’s watchful eye. Aurelia left him there, stealing away from the window. She had promised to write again before they met at King’s Cross in a couple of weeks, and then she was gone. Severus wondered if he should have walked her to her destination, made sure she got there safely. Something told him he didn’t need to worry about her, though. And so he passed the remainder of his break waiting to hear from her, listening to the music she had gifted him, and avoiding any interaction he could with his parents. He would sometimes take out the disc, labeled with the names of the songs that passed through his ears he supposed:
Sev’s Super Sick Mix
 
You got All My Love - Noah Kahan
Hayloft II - Mother Mother
The Chain - Fleetwood Mac
Beautiful Is Boring - BONES UK
Hurt - Johnny Cash
Music Under the Mountain - Kelsey Woods
Sarcasm - Get Scared
O Children - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
Blue Healer - Birdtalker
Fast Car - Tracy Chapman
It was his best holiday in a long while.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The holidays were in the rearview mirror, leaving the remainder of term ahead of Severus. Aurelia had met him at King’s Cross. They conversed quietly between themselves about nothing in particular in the compartment they shared with a couple of Ravenclaws. Neither was inclined to discuss their trek on Christmas Eve while surrounded by the listening ears of others. 
Severus caught a glimpse of red hair, realizing it was the first time in years he wasn’t sharing the ride to Hogwarts with Lily. He hoped she’d had a good holiday. They hadn’t so much as exchanged a letter over break, as Severus had suspected would be the case. He knew he would have to sit down for a talk with her at some point, but he almost couldn’t help pushing himself further away from her. She had begun closer relations with James Potter after all.
 
The first few weeks returning to Hogwarts awarded nothing spectacular: classes and study sessions with Lia. Surprisingly, he had begun to get on with the Ravenclaws they’d shared a compartment with. He had shared classes with them before, it seemed. Secluded homework time in the library expanded to include the pair: Kira and Starling even seemed excited to join these meetings. His world was opening up, and in turn he found he was opening up to the world.
 
Good lord he had questions for Lia, though. He’d had plenty of evenings with solely Aurelia as company, periods he could have asked about Christmas. Each time the thought crossed his mind, he found himself thinking of her tears. The utter sorrow on her visage as she beheld the fire dancers. His curiosity had very much changed from wanting to know for the sake of knowing, to concern for his dear friend. Though the fatigue and weariness had evaporated by the time she had returned to school, that too still haunted Severus. 
 
It wasn’t until the snow had begun to melt, revealing the lush green grass of the Hogwarts lawn that he finally got the answers he so desperately yearned for.
 
“I think Flitwick’s and Slughorn’s will be fairly straightforward, don’t you? I’m not even going to talk about Defense Against the Dark Arts. That’ll be a joke. Transfiguration and Arithmancy will be the real killers,” said Kira one evening in March.
 
The group was preparing outlines for their upcoming exams. They’d agreed that planning ahead of time would be the best strategy for managing the workload for the coming months. Aurelia stayed oddly silent during these meetings, opting instead to nod and listen to the others. She didn’t really ever seem to do much studying herself. A glance at a chapter every now and again the only effort she seemed to put forth to attain top marks. It was rather annoying how she seemed to glide through classes with ease.
 
“Wasn’t Professor Vector saying there were some texts on the importance of the number seven somewhere in the library? Doubt she’d just drop a comment like that without having some sort of intention behind it,” said Starling. 
 
“I’ll take a look around,” Severus offered, surprising even himself.
 
He was deep in the stacks picking up titles such as

New Theory of Numerology

and

Numerology and Grammatica

when he overheard the grating, yet familiar voice of Sirius Black
 
“Well, we’ll be with Moony tonight. You know I never get my work done on the full moon. Too much to prepare for,” Severus watched Black wink at James from behind his place in the stacks. He had a perfect sightline for the pair thanks to a gap in the shelves directly at eye level.
 
“Hmm you have a point. Best put it off til the weekend, eh?” replied James with a smile in his voice.
 
Severus was almost certain he’d been spotted by Black when the boy’s eyes seemed to meet Severus’ own. Fortunately, Black continued his conversation with Potter, oblivious to Severus’ proximity.
 
“Should we walk down to the Whomping Willow, press the knot together? Or were you going to head down a little after Moony’s already been there?” Black continued.
 
“‘Spose we can head down together, now that I’m sure that studying is not on the agenda,” said Potter.
 
“What’re we thinking, ten?”
 
“Yeah, same as usual.”
 
There was shuffling nearby. Severus decided to depart before drawing attention to himself. He couldn’t help but grin. He knew there was something suspicious about those four. Aurelia had even let on as much. Perhaps this was the way to finally get his revenge on the Marauders. Late night excursions on the grounds past curfew? There was no way Dumbledore could ignore that, was there?
 
He returned to the table at the other end of the library, depositing what few books he could find that might be of use. His mind was decidedly elsewhere though, as he planned his moves for the excursion ahead. 
 
Afternoon turned into dusk, and Severus could barely eat with the anticipation gnawing at his insides. He knew Aurelia suspected something, but she had gracefully kept her suspicions to herself. Whether that was for Severus’ benefit, or because she herself seemed on edge, Severus didn’t know. At this point he didn’t really care.
 
At ten on the dot, Severus began his flight from the castle walls. He’d been mentally mapping his route since the library. Keeping to back corridors, utilizing a disillusionment charm, and staying as quiet as possible, he evaded the nightly rounds. He sighed in relief once he had exited onto the still-snowy grounds.

The Whomping Willow

, he thought to himself as he approached the great mass of tree limbs. It was an ugly thing. Thick trunk, swaying branches stuck every which way, the tree was not inviting. Though, he supposed it wasn’t meant to be, given the name. He searched for a knot, struggling to see clearly in the dark. A shift in the clouds allowed the light he so desperately needed thanks to the full moon. 
 
How the hell was he supposed to touch the trunk without getting smashed to bits? He supposed levitating a rock might work. His plan was successful. The tree stilled, causing Severus to sit back in awe for a moment. Not only was the tree sitting frozen, but there was an opening at the base of the trunk that he had never managed to notice before. It was big enough to crawl through.
 
Severus could feel his heart thumping against his chest almost painfully. He checked his surroundings: clear. He took one last look up at the tree, as though assessing whether this was some trick to thump him, and made to duck into the space beneath.
 
He had one foot in what appeared to be a tunnel made of packed dirt and tree roots, when his robes were pulled backwards. He spun, expecting Black or Potter, maybe even Lupin or Pettigrew to be his attacker. But the moonlight revealed someone he had not been anticipating. Aurelia.
 
“Would not do that if I was you, my friend.”
 
She was unceremoniously chomping on an apple with her free hand. She continued with a mouthful: “Like, it’s a seriously bad idea. Knew you were up to something, but not this. It’s a full moon, Sev. What were you thinking?”
 
“I overheard Black –” he began, “Hang on. What are you doing out here?”
 
“Not getting eaten, and making sure you don’t either,” she said simply.
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“My guy, are you serious? C’mon, Sev. Think. While you’re thinking we should probably get you back indoors.”
 
“I’m not going anywhere until I find out what those

Marauders

are up to,” he spat back.
 
“Christ. Fine. Let’s go find a tree to climb.”
 
They ascended a nearby oak, taking to the branches high up. Severus hadn’t thought she was serious about climbing a tree. They waited silently, Lia casting him a glare every time he even opened his mouth. They were shrouded in her invisibility cloak and Severus was just about to attempt to speak again when Aurelia stilled, gripping his arm.
 
The Whomping Willow had steadily picked up its thrashing as Severus and Lia climbed their nearby tree, but it had frozen again. Severus watched, transfixed by the movement beyond its roots. First, a hulking black dog, followed by some kind of antlered deer? A rat seemed to be slinking between the other two figures. What exited the tunnel next horrified Severus to his core. It was a werewolf, standing at least seven feet tall. The other three animals seemed unafraid of the beast, jumping and yipping in palpable excitement around its feet as they made their way into the forbidden forest.
 
Aurelia tossed her apple from their place in the high up branches. She didn’t seem surprised. She didn’t even seem bothered by the presence of a gods damned werewolf on Hogwarts grounds. She turned to look at him, her gaze assessing. She slowly raised her brow.
 
“‘Kay, we're still working it out. I’ll give you a minute. I

do

have plans this evening though, so do try to use that brain power, Sev.”
 
He was indeed still reeling. Was it a student? It couldn’t be. Dumbledore would never allow it, would he? And what about those Marauders? Hadn’t Black mentioned the Whomping Willow…? It couldn’t be. That would be absurd. Had Black known?

Had he known and tried to kill me?!

Then it clicked. Lia’s comment on Halloween about Lupin’s bouts of illness each month. But that would mean the other three –
 
“Lupin is a werewolf, and the others are unregistered animagi?” Severus said darkly.
 
Lia slow-clapped.
 
“Right. Now off to bed with you. I’m already late.”
 
“What, are you joining them?” asked Severus, acidly.
 
“For fucks’ sake, Sev. Of course not.”
 
“Does this have anything to do with the bonfire at Christmas?”
 
She winced as a way of response.
 
“Just

tell me, Lia

.”
 
She bit her lip.
 
“Maybe someday. Just not today.”
 
He would have attempted to follow her had she not personally escorted him back to the Slytherin dormitory. In fact, he had attempted to follow her back into the halls, but he lost her after the first few turns.

Damn that girl.

He was cold to her in the days following, but it was nothing compared to the pure icicles he shot towards Black. The other boy merely returned Severus’ glares with smug smiles of his own. Upon recognizing Lupin’s monthly patterns that night, Severus had begun to reflect on Aurelia’s similarly routine behavior changes. At first, he’d felt like a creep.

Maybe it’s a girl thing?

He shook himself though. It most certainly is not a girl thing to stalk the woods at night alone every few weeks. Probably. She couldn’t be a werewolf, she would have changed in the moonlight that night too if that were the case. So what was going on?
 
His appetite for answers only grew. He knew he would have to follow her on one of these evenings. It was just a matter of time, and staying hidden. He gained the assistance of his Ravenclaw friends, masking his intent with the false excuse of a birthday present for Aurelia. That alone irked him, he didn’t even know when her birthday was. 
 
Two weeks after the werewolf incident, Severus had a plan. He’d made a few vials full of invisibility potion, aided by the Kira and Starling. There was no way Aurelia would give him her cloak. He made his way to his dorms in the evening, blaming tiredness on his early retirement to bed, downed a vial, and crept back to the common room to wait.
 
In no time, he was following her through the castle. They silently made their way deep into the surrounding woods. Severus noticed Lia’s movements begin to jerk and shudder the deeper into the forest they ventured. Then she was running, sprinting, choking on her breaths.
 
“Shit, shit shit!” she said to herself
 
It happened all at once. She was talking to herself, and then she was dropping to the ground, screaming. He had never heard anything like it. There was no possible way that noise had erupted out of her, as deep as it was. She gripped the ground beneath her as though it was her last tether to this earth. Time seemed to slow as she erupted into an explosion of golden light and heat. The trees swayed with the force, and Severus was pushed backwards into a nearby trunk. The air blasted out of him. The heat was so incredible he had to hold up a hand to stop it from singeing his eyelashes.
 
It was like the night of the bonfire. A figure made entirely of fire was discernible in the center of it all. The kneeling frame began to shift, growing wings of flame that outstretched in one swift movement. It seemed to float upwards, though its wings did not move. The infernal screaming thrummed in his ears. 
 
As quickly as it had started, it stopped. The fire dissipated, revealing Aurelia, her skin still a golden flame. She turned, mid air settling her glowing orange eyes onto Severus’ cowering body. 
 
Her clothes had burned in the incident, and he found himself blushing despite himself. As though this were a time to feel abashed. 
 
Slowly, her glow retreated. She stood on the forest floor, assessing him.
 
“Well, I’d hoped to at least get a few more months in before I had to explain that, but…” she huffed as she donned a robe she’d appeared out of nowhere. 
 
“What the fuck,” was all he said in return.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Book II: Aurelia Firedrake

Chapter 7: Burning the Venom Out
 Severus Snape was a bit of an asshole. Actually, he was definitely an asshole. Aurelia kinda liked that about him, though. She’d gravitated towards his darkness, his brooding nature, the way he’d lash out at the first sign someone might make him feel vulnerable from the start. This was of course before she’d even met the man - the boy now, she had to remind herself. Everything about the man she’d seen in the memories had struck a chord deep within her being. She’d known from the first glimpse into those cavernous eyes that she would be the one to bring him salvation. She would guide him to his second chance at life.  
The memories - both his and the ones of those closest to him - had depicted an angry, deeply troubled man. Which was fair enough. Dude had been through two fucking wars, lost the love of his life - ew - and was then put in a position to be manipulated into sacrificing himself for that same woman’s son. She saw something of herself in him, and she knew she would do whatever it took to salvage that broken little boy that existed deep within Severus Snape.
 
Aurelia was young when she was taken to the Council. Like, YOUNG. Try six or seven. Her memories of home seemed to cloud the longer she was trapped within the walls of the Council of Fates. She’d shown her power (poor move on her part, hey?), and was whisked away to serve a “higher purpose.” What a joke. She missed her dad. Sometimes she hated her dad; how could he have given her up? As the years passed under the scrutiny of the Fates themselves, she had started to realize that her old man barely had a say in what happened to her. It wasn’t like those old fools would have let the rest of her clan live had he refused.
 
God she missed them. Firedrakes were pack animals, after all. The local Known community had assumed her family was a bunch of cultists, not that they complained about the bountiful harvests or weekly firenight festivals. Known. That was what her people had referred to the “muggles,” or non-magic folk. She’d encountered others from America that referred to them as No-Maj. Never quite sat right with her. “Muggle” definitely didn’t. 
 
Where were we? Oh yeah. Her people. See? She was so used to putting them to the back of her mind. The firedrakes were an ancient, and very secret sect of the magical community, and that’s what she was. Aurelia Firedrake was her real name. They’d had very close relations with The Firsts of America. Take Columbus and the Vikings outta your mind. Think Native Peoples. Her family line had drawn back to the Netherlands, though so if that’s where your mind went originally that’s fine. Her however-many-greats grandfather had crossed the seas on a serpent, family in tow, landing somewhere off the coast of what would probably now be the Canadian/California border. They’d secluded themselves deep in the forest, hardly encountering anyone else. Her ancestor had been seeking refuge. Her family had time and time again been hunted for their magical properties. So what if they were still humans, as long as they had something they could offer others, right? 
 
Eventually they made a pact with the Natives whose land they’d stumbled upon. They sought sanctuary, and were given it. They fought to protect the people that had saved them when conquistadors from Spain and Britain alike came to claim the territory as their own. Her ancestors had acted as mercenaries for those whose land they occupied, and in return they were granted the secrecy they so desperately needed. 
 
Firedrakes themselves… Well, that’s a tough one. You’ve seen Game of Thrones, right? So think Daenerys Targaryen times like a million. Firedrakes

become

flame itself. Winged beasts that take flight, lighting up the skies. God, a firelight festival was quite a sight. All hundred or so of them taking to the skies? Breathtaking. 
 
They’d had rituals, though Aurelia had much forgotten them at this point. The only time she actually got to see her kin was about hmmmm 30 years farther into the future than she’d been used to, hidden behind trees. She’d steal away when she could, which admittedly wasn’t often. She had only seen her father from a distance a handful of times, and he was old. Much older than she had last seen him. It broke her heart. Aurelia was 7 years old in the year 2012. The Council didn’t necessarily stay in one time. They moved. A lot. Mostly, they pushed forward. That made sense. Their whole thing was to “fix” timelines that were deemed “detrimental to humanity” as Lechesis put it.
 
Yeah,

that

Lachesis. A literal Fate. How absolutely fucked was that? For the love of all things, do not mention that Lechesis was a woman according to Greek tall tales. He might look unassuming at first glance, but he was eons old. He held power most witches and wizards could only fantasize about. He was tall with gray hair. Lia supposed he’d been perpetually gray from the start of his existence. There was no way that guy had ever looked under 40 years old. And he was just one of the Siblings.  
 
Still, she was just a child when she’d been indoctrinated, sorry,

trained

by the Council. Brutality and isolation were their bread and butter here at the Council. Miscast? Off to the whipping station for you. Mess up a brew? Hope you like spending the night by yourself nearly freezing to death. Their punishments

were

effective, as much as Lia hated to admit. Well, she didn’t necessarily hate to admit that, but she

did

hate that torture was such an effective training protocol, and really, was there another word for what they did to the recruits?

So here she was, 14 going on 15 (probably, it’s not like the Council accounted for birthdays) watching this valiant man fight for what he thought was right. What was she supposed to do? She raised her hand and volunteered herself for his case. The aftermath was a rush of preparations. She took what she held dear: her music library, the carving her father had made before she left their coven, and her band T-Shirts. Of course she was allotted an allowance from the Council. They didn’t expect her to spend possibly

years

without any money.
 
It was the weirdest experience for her yet, to travel Back. She’d been through seven years of training with the Council and nothing prepared her for the throwback to the 70s. They really needed to work on that. 
 
Then there she was, sat across from her target. He was… sad to look at. Unkempt, overlooked save for his ever-faithful bullies, left to consider the Dark Arts as a profession. Really, she’d thought there would be more in his corner, but evidently not. Assessing the situation it was obvious why he was so guarded. No one had ever been nice to him. He had Lily. She was something? But he was just a boy, confused about the world. He needed support. That was clear after five minutes of conversation with Severus Snape. God, she relished the sound of his name. That was, like, comic book character naming.  
 
She needled, and pressed his boundaries, his comfort zones over the weeks and months. He trusted her. He was suspicious as was his nature, but that was to be expected. She befriended him, slowly guided him away from the Death Eaters, cared for him, showed up for him, and laughed with him. She supposed she’d kinda fucked it up when she showed him her clan’s firelight festival, but what was she supposed to do? She knew that was the festival her father was crowned leader at. She wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Severus had avoided the topic for weeks, which surprised her. He’d grown skeptical of her bi-weekly excursions, and behavior changes, she’d assumed he’d confront her immediately afterwards. He hadn’t. 
 
So she’d been off her guard that night. After all these months of careful planning, protecting the man – fuck –

boy

because he was just a boy, she had miscalculated. She had ignored that nagging sensation at the base of her neck telling her something was off. She’d needed the solitude of the woods. Firedrakes were not known for their ability to be calm. Years at the Council had conditioned her just one or two outbursts of emotion every month. No more. 
 
Then there was Severus staring back at her after she blew up. How could he have known that was why she’d ventured into the woods. She hadn't dared tell him. If she had, what else would she have been willing to share? Probably too much.
 
“What the fuck,” Severus had said to her.
 
Her heart had dropped.

“

Please.

Let me explain.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Shit. She’d only seen that look from memories of 30-year-old Severus Snape, often trained at students (mostly Harry Potter) to let them know

just how unimpressed

he was. She had certainly never expected that piercing look of disgust to be directed towards

her.

He was clearly injured. That was clear by the way his hand clutched at his ribs, and how his frame was almost doubled over against the large trunk. He was scared, she could almost smell it on him. Still, despite his obvious need for some medical interference, she stayed well enough away. 
 
“Severus,” she said, internally kicking herself for the utter desperation in her voice. He has every right to be pissed, afraid, disgusted. She would tell him anything he wanted to know.

Except you won’t,

she thought to herself. She’d at least tell him enough, dammit if he would

just stop looking at her like that.

“Please,” she said, content that she’d at least been able to stop her voice from cracking like it had wanted to. She held her hands up like she was trying to calm a wild animal. Ironic given that

he

probably viewed

her

like a beast and not the other way around. 
 
“Stay the fuck away from me!” He hissed at her. 
 
She made to take a step closer to him, only to have him scrabble backwards kicking up dirt and leaves underneath his boots. 
 
“Okay. Okay. Just… will you just

listen?”

He didn’t respond, but he wasn’t running for the hills either, so she supposed that was at least a good sign. She opted to sit on the ground, maybe to level the playing field? She didn’t think standing over him was winning her any favors after what he probably saw. 
 
“Pulled a fast one on me, Sev. Wasn’t expecting to have to keep my eyes out for you tonight,“ she said with a dark chuckle. It was a failed attempt to ease the tension thrumming between the two of them. She let out a puff of air, recognizing that her quip had missed its mark and definitely wasn’t going to be enough to make Severus just forget everything he’d seen. Nor Would it make him look past the fact that she’d kept such a secret hidden from him for the past few months. 
 
“Can I talk, or do you want to just get a minute to breathe?”
 
“Talk,” was all he said in return. His lip was curled.
 
“Yeah, so… the uh, fireworks show you just got a front row seat to,” she was hesitating. Where to even start? There was still so much she couldn’t tell him. So much of her story could easily put him in danger, making him a target for the Council. Would they take away his chance if she shared too much? She was sitting with her knees up to her chest, her hands clasped around her shins. She was sure she’d have bruises in the morning from where the pads of her digits dug into her skin.

“What

are

you?” he asked. Some of his disgust had dissipated, being replaced by fear. Fear and curiosity. So there was hope after all.
 
“Right. Well, you know about dragons, right? Course you do. So, that’s kinda what I am? But not really,” gods she was anxious. She bit her lip while she tried to find the words that would make him understand. What was she supposed to say? ‘Hey, yeah that was wild, right? My family worshiped a Norse fire deity that allowed them to sprout wings and turn into fire?’ Doubtful Severus would take that seriously. Always so suspicious, that boy. Maybe it was worth a shot?
 
And so she told him.
 
Not everything of course. That would be insane. He couldn’t know about the Council, about why she was here. She couldn’t give him much, but she hoped what she allowed him to know would be enough. 
 
She told him of her Horde back home: her family of firedrakes. Aurelia found she had become lost in her own history, and everything seemed to be spilling out at once, like she was afraid if she stopped she’d lose her nerve. All of the things Lachesis had endeavored to manipulate out of her mind, came back, and so she spoke fervently. It was as though she was worried if she didn’t get it all out that she would lose her nerve, or forget again.
 
She told him what it felt like to become the Drake: the ancient Norse entity her people had become entwined with since before they made their way across the seas. Aurelia spoke of the reasons her people had left their lands - the persecution they endured, the hunting they were subjected to. She told him stories about her family, what she could remember anyway. How her mother was never known to her, though she’d been told she smiled just like her. How the sound of crackling fire reminded her of her father’s voice, and how the smell of woodsmoke always brought her back to the safety net of her family’s arms around her. How she’d lost them.
 
Aurelia lost track of how long she spoke, needing someone,

anyone

she supposed, to know this part of her. She hadn’t even felt the tears trailing down her pale face until Severus reached up to wipe her tear-streaked face clean.
 
She felt a piece of her heart fall away when he pressed his mouth into a hard line, “You’re still keeping something from me.”
 
She made to grab his hand: “Severus.”
 
Yanking his hand away from hers, raised his wand.
 
“Legillimens

!”

he cried.

You absolute fool.

She felt him slip his consciousness into hers but for a brief flash, then he was stumbling backward, hands clutching the sides of his head. Aurelia had known he would try this at some point, to invade her, discover her secrets. His mind had been abruptly burned out of hers. A perk of the strange magic that flowed through her being, Aurelia was naturally resistant to Legilimency.
 
“Sev, I want to tell you everything. I wanted to tell you about this, but what was I supposed to say?” she asked, voice pleading.
 
“ANYTHING,” he snarled, “ANYTHING, Lia. I thought you were my friend. I thought I could

trust

you. I don’t even know you, do I?” he asked, stepping back.
 
She felt her face slip into its familiar stony indifference as she regarded him. 
 
“There are secrets that are not mine to tell, Severus. Secrets that I doubt I’ll ever be able to reveal to you. You decide if this slice of me you get to know is enough.”
 
She pointed her wand at him, and he flinched. She wordlessly healed the crack in his ribs.
 
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this? What did you think would happen after months of clandestine trips to the woods, Lia? And what? Did you think I was going to hunt you for what you are? Or tell others?” his eyes were pleading with her now, like he was holding onto some shred of hope that she would have a good enough excuse for the betrayal he felt.
 
 “Does Dumbledore know?” he asked suddenly, recalling the night in the headmaster’s office.
 
“He knows what I am.”
 
Severus shook his head in disbelief.
 
“Stay away from me. Find someone else for whatever the hell this is.”
 
Aurelia stared after him as he traipsed through the darkened wood back towards the castle. Her mind was reeling. Fine. Fuck you!... Maybe I should g

o after him. Explain it all, to hell with Lachesis. Maybe I could obliviate him, and put the night behind us.

She felt the turmoil of her emotions swirling around her, but she stood still. Unable to move. Her assignment was the furthest thing from her mind. In the end, she kept coming back to the hurt look in his eyes. The and joy that had been in them these past few months evaporating in an instant. The guilt she felt was stifling. All he'd wanted was someone to trust that trusted him in return. Was protecting her identity really worth the betrayal he'd felt upon finding her truth in that clearing? The crack in her chest opened like a chasm. 
 
What the hell was she supposed to do now?

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

She was staring back into the eyes of Lachesis, navy pools of starlight. The grayed man had her chin caught in his hand, forcing her to look at him. She knew to struggle would only make this encounter worse, and probably last way longer than it needed to. In a few years’ time that boy could very well turn into the same Death Eater that gave Tom Riddle the upper hand last time. Do your fucking job, Firedrake. I mean that with all the sincerity of a threat.   Lia woke in a cold sweat. It was a few days after Severus had discovered her in the woods, body aflame. He had told her to stay away. So she had. One would think that would be easier upon surveying the expanse of grounds Hogwarts boasted, yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. She saw him everywhere. And every time their eyes met: his coal black pits to her ever-changing irises, her heart would lurch. Her grief often gave way to her anger towards him. How dare he not realize she was doing it to protect him? Or the gnawing anxiety about his fate. Her dream, more of a memory from holiday break, was a manifestation of such anxiety. Lachesis was right, as much as she hated to admit. If she kept her distance, who was to say Severus wouldn’t wind up on the Lord Voldemort bandwagon in a couple of years? She knew she had to act. She knew she had to say something, had to make him listen. It wasn’t like the secrecy was totally driven by her role as an Epoch. She cared for the boy, more than she’d cared for anyone in a very long while. And she supposed that scared her too. The last caste she had mortal ties with were ripped from her grasp, leaving her with the dying embers of hope that she would see them again, and the faint light of memories that had long begun to melt away into nothing.  She was incredibly stubborn. The pang in her chest, whether fear or sadness, was easily replaced with rage. She’d spent the last few nights sprinting to the sanctuary of the forest to prevent her skin from erupting because of it. She really hoped Lachesis wasn’t keeping tabs right now. He had assured her at the train station that he would only be checking in that once, as a reminder of the purpose she served. Crazy as it may seem, she didn’t trust that to be the full truth. The retribution for her lack of control would be… ruinous.  So on the sixth day of her estrangement from Severus she began to plan. Not that things usually went according to plan for Aurelia. Forced interaction it would have to be. She’d won him over once. She could do it again. “What’s up between you two anyway,” Kira had asked when Severus refused to show up to their regularly scheduled study times. Aurelia could feel her jaw ticking, waiting for the frustration with the boy to reduce to a controlled simmer, she replied, “He told me to stay away from him. So I have been.” Her reply was simple enough, but the Ravenclaws shared a glance that wasn’t all too agreeable to the firedrake. “What?” she asked dumbly. “Is it… well,” Starling looked down at his hands, apparently too embarrassed to look into Aurelia’s eyes. “He was close with those boys interested in the dark arts. Did he find out you aren’t pureblood?” Kira finished for him. Aurelia could have laughed. She tamped down the urge to do so, attempting to at least look like she appreciated their concern. Severus had never really joined the Death Eaters seeking to ruin muggle borns or half bloods in the first place. He just didn’t think he had anywhere else to be.  “Ah. No. We had a bit of a disagreement is all. You know him. He tends to hold a grudge,” was her reply. “Oh. So, will you be mad if we study with him later?” asked Kira sheepishly. “We wanted to make sure he wasn’t going all blood purist on us, but he asked if we would meet up later,” Starling explained. “No guys, that’s fine. I’m not his keeper, and he’s your friend too. Right?” Aurelia said with a chuckle. The pair looked relieved. “Really, I feel pretty confident about exams. If you guys are just here cuz you like hanging out with me, we don’t have to study,” she said with a smirk. Starling leapt at the chance, swiping his books from the table in front of them in the library.  “Wizards chess, then? I’ve been reading the same chapter since we got here,” he said with a cheeky grin, “Shall we wager a couple galleons?” Lia smiled. It was the first time she had felt lighter since that night in the woods. She sucked ass at chess, but she figured she could spare the coins if it meant she was able to sit in this feeling for a little longer.  “Absolutely incorrigible, you two,” said Kira with a huff. Aurelia could see the ghost of a smile on the girl’s lips. It was early afternoon by the time the trio parted ways. They headed back to the Ravenclaw common room, while Aurelia opted to roam outdoors with the weather being as agreeable as it was. She found herself venturing towards the Black Lake. The mass of water seemed to suck in the sunlight that hit its surface. She’d just settled into a tree near the shoreline, a few groups of students smattered nearby, attempting to read a book for fun of all things, when a gratingly familiar voice assaulted her ears. “Well, well. Taking your leave of Snivelus, eh?” She allowed her head to fall back, banging on the trunk she was supported by. Sirius Black really was relentless. For some reason, the handsome boy took her lack of reply as a sign that he should continue filling the silence instead. “Knew it’d happen eventually. You really are too gorgeous to be wasting your time with him, anyway.” He was leaning on the trunk himself, towering above her. His school shirt was unbuttoned nearly to his navel. His shaggy hair framed his face, smiling down at her. She absolutely didn’t have the patience for this today. “Oh my fucking god,” was all she mumbled in reply. She turned her attention back to her book. “Jane eyre? ‘I am no bird; and no net ensnares me.’ Quite on the nose I’d say.” “Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilized by education: they grow there, firm as weeds among stones,” was her reply. “And it is you, spirit – with will and energy, and virtue and purity–that I want, not alone with your brittle frame.” She looked at him. Her brows knit together ever-so-subtly. Then, despite her misgivings of the boy, she smiled.  “And she can smile. Wasn’t actually sure if you were capable, to be fair.” She felt his assessing gaze flit over her. Still, she remained silent. “Why did you end up spending so much time with that dick?” he asked, breaking the quiet between them. “He’s still my friend even if we aren’t speaking at the minute. Hold your tongue, dog,” she replied, returning her attention to the book in her hands. “I still don’t get it.” “Never said you had to.” He bent low, to level their gaze. His hand grabbed a stray strand of hair dangled in her face, and he tucked it behind her ear. “What could possibly be so interesting about that git? He surely isn’t treating you the way you deserve,” he said, his words velvet soft. “Ahh yes, I deserve to be called a bitch just for spending time with him. You’re so capable of giving me that, if Halloween is any indication, no?” she purred in response. She knew her eyes were alight with fire reflecting the ebbing rage within. He straightened, taking a deep, assessing breath. His eyes still roamed over her as his brow quirked, reflecting her own expression. “Your vitriol is like music to my ears,” he hummed, “I really do look forward to you recognizing you’re worth more than the company of Severus Snape. ‘Til then…” He sauntered away, leaving her speechless.  As she looked around, she saw Severus quietly seething a few paces away. Perfect. She watched her friend storm away. The anger radiating off of him enough to microwave a bag of popcorn. Sirius, despite how positively tiresome he was, had given her an idea. Music.  She knew he’d spent most of their holiday with those headphones mashed against his ears. Maybe she could get through to him after all. She’d had to go to Hogsmeade, just out of Hogwarts grounds to make it happen. She hoped at least the melodies she’d picked out would offer some sort of foot in the door with him. She’d scrawled over the face of the CD, carefully packaged it, and offered it to her bright orange companion. She knew it wouldn’t be enough. She just hoped it was something. Aurelia hadn’t even attached a note to the disc.

Music for Sev to Listen to While he’s mad at Lia

A Million Reasons - Lady Gaga

Annies Song - John Denver

Long Long Time - Linda Ronstadt

Take A Chance on Me - ABBA

Misery Business - Paramore

I’m Not Okay - My Chemical Romance

Linger - The Cranberries

Bleed - Frank Carter and the Rattlesnakes

All for Us - Labrinth, Zendaya

Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Another few days passed. Aurelia did her best not to sit in a constant state of anxiety. Had he gotten it? Had he listened? She found she spent more and more time on the castle grounds, telling herself that fresh air would help clear her head. It certainly had nothing to do with wanting to steer clear of her fellow Slytherin, fearful of what his response would be should she see him.
 
It was one such excursion that she found the distance i'll-pursued. Severus was a few paces away from her, seeming not to see her as he shaded himself under the canopy of a nearby tree. It looked like he was fully-invested in the text he had propped up on his knees. She did her best to ignore him, though that became more difficult as the afternoon passed.
 
God she felt like a lovestruck idiot. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? Not that Severus could ever know

that

either. She’d never be able to love him the way he deserved, with promises of honesty, and guarantees of sticking around. The realization caused her to fight back tears. And bile. Both, actually. For all she knew, she would be sucked forward 60 years by the end of his time at Hogwarts. She would have to be content in loving him as a friend, even if that meant ignoring her skipping heartbeats, and the sinking feeling she’d been fighting since he had looked at her with only betrayal and hurt in his eyes.
 
Shit. She was absolutely staring now. So much for acting like he wasn't there.

Keep it cool, dumbass. Just read your book.

The two continued to act like they were ignoring each other when Aurelia heard raucous voices she had begrudgingly become more and more familiar with. She was not shocked to see the Marauders saunter into view. Well, two of them were sauntering. The other two were ducking their heads and blindly following. Typical. 
She was obscured from their view. She knew this, because there was no way James Potter would be so thick-skulled that he would attempt to do what he did if Aurelia was clearly in his line of sight. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t. 
 
Aurelia had been hopeful that the four would leave Severus alone, as they’d done since the beginning of term. She’d thought that her conversation with Sirius might have at least made him think twice about tyrannizing Severus. That was not the case. She waited, silently assessing the situation, not wanting to intervene unless she had to: Severus didn’t want to be coddled. He didn't need to be coddled.

Maybe they’ll just tell him he’s got a big nose and leave it at that.

Once she saw Severus’ slight frame flip upside down, and heard the threat escape James Potter's mouth, she saw red.  
 
It wasn’t an exaggeration. She’d unknowingly cast some sort of curse that burst from the tip of her wand, slamming James Potter in the back. It was like her wand arm had a mind of its own, which might have been a good thing if it wasn’t intent on attempting to murder him. See, had she actually been in control of herself, she might have cast a jelly-legs hex, or her typical boils spell. Her training from the Council had taken over, it would seem, because the boy’s face was melting off.
 
His screams of agony cut through the spring air, shocking Aurelia back to her senses. She could only see a fragment of his torment, but it was enough to make her realize the grave mistake she had made. The skin was peeling off of him, completely untethering from the tendons and bone beneath. The once-handsome boy now resembled some sort of Halloween monster. His own face had become a mask that he painfully wore. 
 
She quickly performed the counter-curse, which wouldn’t completely stop the pain he endured, but it would at least reattach the flesh where it was supposed to be. No longer bearing witness to their friend’s face liquifying before them, the other Marauders glanced around for the spellcaster. James’ tear streaked, but now-intact face turned to her. Aurelia breathed deeply. Best to go about this with as clear a head as possible.
 
“Why the long face, Potter?”

God I’m hilarious. That joke would kill if the situation were any different.

“What the

fuck

was that?!” bellowed Sirius, turning his wand on her.
 
In fact, three of the four Marauders had their wands trained on her. Lupin was stock still, glancing between the groups, shock still traced his face. 
 
Flashes of light blazed towards her as they shouted curses of their own. She was certain she’d heard at least one unforgivable, which she supposed was fair. She blocked them easily, a coy smile flickering over her features. 
 
“Come on, boys. You have to do better than that. Potter’s pretty face was almost ruined! Doesn’t that make you mad?” She was egging them on, for whatever reason. As a distraction? To feel something other than sadness? She certainly couldn't place why.
 
James shrieked something incoherent at her as he lunged to tackle her. She sidestepped him, and glancing at his back pocket, quickly picked the piece of parchment off of him. She'd seen this relic many times before, though never in person. It would certainly be a useful tool for her to use.
 
“Ooooh isn’t this interesting? Bit of old parchment, or something more, Potter?”
 
Black made to send another curse her way, when another group of students stumbled upon the scene. Remus reached up to lower Sirius’ wand, shaking his head as if to say

Let’s just go.

“Give it back, first,” James said, out of breath. He had raised his outstretched hand to Lia.
 
“I actually think I’m going to keep it, thanks.”
 
James was staring holes into her. Aurelia stared right back.
 
“This isn’t over.”
 
“I’m sure it’s not,” she said with a shrug, “not a whole lot you guys can do about it right now though. One of you tossed a Cruciatus my way, and I’m sure the other two curses weren’t very friendly either. I’d say that makes up for the one I used while you tried to assault Severus. You really want to see his dick so badly that you’d just try to pants him in broad daylight? Anyway, I reversed it, you’re fine now. Though, I’m sure it twinges a bit. Probably will for a day or two. Consider it a warning.”
 
“A bloody

warning

? His

face

was

melting off,”

Sirius hissed at her, still clearly seething.
 
“I could have done worse,” she said with deadly calm.
 
Disbelief, maybe shock, crossed his features. 
 
“You two are quite the pair.”
 
“As are you four. Say, Sirius, did you ever tell your friends that you tried to get Sev killed last month? That you told him exactly how to find you by the light of the moon?” She risked a glance at Remus, his face was devoid of color, mouth slightly parted in shock.
 
“Hmm thought not. I at least knew I could reverse that curse. How were you planning on reversing what would have happened that night if I hadn’t stopped him?”
 
Sirius swallowed back the retort he’d had on the tip of his tongue. He cast a look towards Remus, then towards James.
 
“Let’s get out of here,” was all he had left to say.
 
She could hear them beginning to bicker amongst themselves as they walked hurriedly away
 
“I can’t believe you did that, Sirius. I wouldn’t have been able to stop if he had actually found us. What were you

thinking

?” whispered Remus.
 
"How the fuck does she just happen to know everything?" was Sirius' only reply.
 
She’d spent the entire encounter ignoring the urge to look at Severus. Now that the Marauders were departing, she didn’t have an excuse to avert her eyes any longer. She bit her cheek as she raised her gaze to look at him.
His eyes were still a bit wide, eyebrows raised. Curiously his reflection didn’t reflect fear or horror. It was like he was impressed. She stopped herself from rolling his eyes.

Of course the Master of Brooding liked that.

“What kind of spell was that?” was all he asked, as though he hadn’t just witnessed something barbaric.
 
“I’ll tell you when you’re old enough to drink,” she said.
 
He nodded his head.
 
She rubbed the back of her neck, this was awkward. Were they supposed to talk about what happened? Or would they keep avoiding each other altogether? She couldn't take the uncertainty any longer.
 
“‘Kay well, I’m gonna go I guess?” 
 
“You could stay. I’m just reading. Same as you.” 
 
“Yeah?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
She merely followed him to the tree he had been sitting beneath.
 
“You know,” he started after a while, “you’re pretty good at apologies. I liked those new songs.”
 
His face was still. It was clear he was only pretending to read. She suppressed a grin.
 
“I’ll keep them coming then. Maybe this next one won’t be so sad.”
 
“Let’s hope not.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

You would think that a second winter had come into play with the frigid energy the Marauders had been sending towards Aurelia and Severus in the following weeks. She supposed it was well-deserved. She still hadn’t forgiven the Council-member that had first used c

onflandum facies

on her either. The Fates were nothing if not thorough, and their training on advanced spellcasting had meant that Aurelia was forced to be on the receiving end of the innumerable curses she was taught, “You have to know what those spells do.

Really

understand them. You can’t just go eviscerating someone without understanding what that entails,” Lachesis had told her. And wouldn’t you know it? Those little lessons had stopped her from using those spells unless absolutely necessary. Unless Severus was being harmed, it seemed.
 
Still, she wasn’t exactly pleased that she’d garnered even more attention from the four of them. There would be another attempt at tipping the scale, she could feel it in the way their eyes assessed her from across the Great Hall each meal. The reward was worth the cost in her mind. At least Severus was talking to her again.
 
“They’ve never even looked at

me

that way,” he acknowledged.
 
“I mean, I did send a pretty nasty curse his way. I think I’ve earned the hostility,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulder.
 
“I still think you should be careful,” Severus warned.
 
“No shit,” she said darkly, as she speared roasted potatoes with her fork. 
 
The four boys had taken to conspiring together a few tables over. That didn’t bode well. 
 
“Don’t go anywhere alone,” she warned Severus.
 
“

Me?

Why don’t you take your own advice? They forgot about me the minute you cast that spell. I haven’t heard so much as a comment about how greasy my hair is,

or

how big my nose happens to be in weeks. You’re the one that should be careful.”
 
She rolled her eyes.
 
“Anything short of a killing curse I can take. Trust me on that.”
 
He surveyed her then. An unspoken question hung in the air:

What are you still hiding?

She leaned back, resting on her elbows, attention straying from the dinner in front of her. She sucked her teeth, eyeing Severus as she did so. Of course they hadn’t spoken about the night in the forest or her secrecy for that matter. Something snapped in her with that look.
 
“Are we finally going to talk about this, then or do you want to keep acting like the past month didn’t happen?” she asked him.
 
His gaze fell away from hers as he glanced at his plate. He took a steadying breath as his eyes met hers again.
 
“You can’t tell me much. I think… Well, I think I can live with that. For now. As long as you don’t lie to me. I mean it, Lia.”
 
That was unexpected.
 
“You’re serious?”
 
“I’m not a fan, but I didn’t especially savor the days we spent not speaking. This is better than nothing.

For now.”

Huh.
 
“Okay then, I think we need to focus our attention on Potter and his merry gang then. We need to do something to get them off our backs. I’m thinking we let them jump me.”
 
Severus laughed out loud at that. His face fell when he noticed that Lia wasn’t smiling in return.
 
“You can’t actually be considering that. They are quite literally out for your blood.”
 
She bit her bottom lip, thinking.
 
“That’s why they need to get their licks. Get it out of their system.”
 
“So, what? You’re just proposing you walk into a dark corridor by yourself and wait to get attacked?” he asked, incredulously, “That’s idiotic.”
 
“It’s only idiotic if it doesn’t work,” she argued, “I still don’t think you should go anywhere alone. They might try to use you as bait.”
 
“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” he said, dripping sarcasm.
 
“Oof,” she said, distracted by something over his shoulder, “how are we feeling about

that

development?”
 
Severus turned in time to see Lily Evans plant a kiss on James Potter’s cheek. The boy was still staring daggers at Severus and Aurelia, but a grin crossed his face at Lily’s contact. Severus surveyed the scene for a beat before swiveling to face Aurelia once again. He seemed lost for words. His face had fallen into a scowl, and without thinking, Aurelia lifted her hand to poke him between the brows.
 
“Seriously, dude, if you keep doing that you’re going to have the most ridiculous frown lines when you’re older. Trust me.”
 
“I very much doubt that,” and she couldn’t help but laugh.

If only you knew.

Aurelia was surprised to find that Severus had followed her suggestion: he absolutely wasn’t wandering the halls alone. No, he was just constantly following

her

around. She might have been annoyed at his interference with her plans to get the Marauder attack over and done with, but she had to admit she was much more pleased with Severus’ presence, rather than his absence. 
 
Most of their time spent together was spent in silence. They had fallen back into the steady ease of one another’s company, not needing constant conversation to fill the gaps between important things left unsaid. The two had taken to their usual spot in the library, anticipating the arrival of their Ravenclaw compatriots, when they received an unexpected guest. Aurelia was using Severus’ lap as a footrest, much to his mock displeasure. Both were nestled comfortably with books to read while they waited, when Lily walked into their line of sight. 
 
Lia saw her first, and poked Severus with the toe of her boot to get his attention. A flash of surprise crossed his features, but quickly settled into a look of disinterest as he regarded his former friend. 
 
“Can we talk?” Lily asked, staring at Severus. It was clear she wasn’t going to acknowledge Lia. 
 
Severus glanced between Lia and Aurelia.
 
“Go on then,” he said.
 
“

Alone,

” Lily said through her clenched teeth.
 
Aurelia sighed, she and Severus seemed to share a silent conversation: Lia raised her eyebrows in question, Severus shrugged then nodded his head, Lia shrugged in response, grabbed her book, and left. She settled for roaming the stacks near the restricted section to give Severus and Lily some privacy.
 
All the while, Lia felt a nagging sensation at the nape of her neck. The kind of feeling you get when you aren’t sure whether you’ve turned the stove off. After fifteen minutes of wandering, she decided to return to their corner, only to find it vacated. Her things were strewn across the floor, as were the bits of parchment Severus had been scribbling on whilst he read.
 
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Lia said to no one but herself.
 
She had to clench her fists against the bout of rage that engulfed her body. Better the fire burn within rather than turning the tomes around her into ash. She knew she was tearing into her flesh as she felt a familiarly warm, wet substance drip from beneath her fingers as they dug into the delicate skin of her palms. She couldn’t remember the last time The Drake had stripped away her tissue like this, without her command, replacing her nails with claws fit for a dragon.
 
She swept past a cluster of other students, their eyes wide at the icy rage radiating off of her form. They wisely stepped aside as she exited the Library in search of her friend, and his captors. Because this would only lead back to the Marauders. 
 
Lia had figured that Severus would be safe with Lily, had given the girl the assumption of innocence. Had wanted to believe, for Severus’ sake, that Lily had moved past his rejection from the previous term. That she wanted to rekindle their friendship. Sure, Lia had felt the telltale twinges of jealousy and disbelief at the girl’s impertinence. How dare she come sauntering back, supposing she could just have Severus back because she willed it? And maybe that resentment Aurelia had felt was what pushed her to give them space, because she wasn’t his keeper. He wasn’t hers to have, no matter how much she wished that was the case. 
 
She moved through the castle as though she was gifted with second sight, or maybe it was some kind of animalistic instinct gifted by her bloodline that she had yet to discover. Whatever guided her, she trusted it. When she came upon a warded door a few corridors away from Gryffindor Tower, she knew it was her destination. Had her rage not been actively consuming her, she might have rolled her eyes or laughed at how feeble the barriers were. Instead, she reached a hand forward. Cold, white flame licked from her touch, dispersing the magic meant to keep her out. 
 
Wandlessly, she willed the door to burst open. In the far corners of her mind, she relished the thought of what she must look like to the prey cowering before her. Her hair whipping around her, though the halls were still. Her eyes ablaze. Claws extending from her fingertips, slick with her own blood. And when she spoke it was not her voice that escaped her lips, but that of an ancient entity: rage corporealized. She allowed a fiendish smile to cross her lips as she watched Peter Pettigrew piss his pants.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Remus said. He was standing slightly in front of the rest of them, his arms outstretched in a poor attempt to block them from harm. His eyes were wild with shock. In fact, they all looked shocked, save for Severus. He wore a simple smirk on his porcelain features. “Lia, please. James didn’t mean anything by this. He-he was just upset. You get that, don’t you?” Lupin was pleading, now. His gaze passed briefly over to James, whose wand was shoved under Severus’ chin, making an indent in the soft flesh there.  “You are weak,” was Aurelia’s only response. Her voice was mixed with that of a deep baritone that did not belong to her. It filled the room in such a way that it sounded like many voices speaking at once. She did not look at Remus, however. Her eyes met Lily’s. Lia cocked her head to the side.  “Lured by the promise of attention, you auctioned off your oldest friend to his enemy. You are weak,” Lia repeated, “and you disgust me. You were everything to him once, you know? All he needed in return was an ounce of that same care. You squandered unwavering affection for this ?” she gestured with a tilt of her chin towards James, who merely dug his wand tip deeper into Severus’ throat. “Get out,” Lia said with finality. Lily obeyed the instruction without question. As she left, Lia turned her attention to the four in her way. Her eyes glimmered an icy blue. Unbeknownst to the remaining members in the room, Aurelia was fighting for purchase in her mind. Her attempts to keep The Drake in line, to stop it from turning those boys into cinders, barely kept the beast in check. It had never exerted this much concentrated control before, sticking to rage or grief-filled explosions when she allowed herself to wring out her emotions. Never had she been made to feel like a visitor in her own consciousness.   James spoke then, “Got you right where we wanted you,” the boy panted. There was a sheen of sweat coating his face. His eyes were wild. He knew this would end badly, “alright, grab her. Tie her up like we planned,” he commanded his friends. The others exchanged looks between themselves, disbelief crossing all of their faces. Even Sirius paled at the instruction. “Uh, James. I don’t think tha–”  “Sirius, just GRAB THE FUCKING GIRL!” James interrupted. The eldest Black boy swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing with the effort.  Sirius took one step towards Lia, and she growled in response. The rumbling filled the room. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. ‘Scuse me, Lia. Think I’ll be on my way,” he stepped around her, bowing, then exited through the door she still stood in front of. Her head tilted the other way, as though she found the whole exchange rather amusing. Severus, it seemed, found it to be hilarious, as he could no longer hold back his piercing laugh. It was quickly cut off by another jab from Potter. “James, mate. It’s done. We need to go. Now,” tried Lupin. His arms now reached towards his friend, no longer assuming the protective stance he’d held at the beginning of the encounter.  “NO. You’re going to watch while I make your little boyfriend even more nauseating to look at,” James spat at Lia, ignoring his friend’s pleas. “James, we agreed that Severus wasn’t going to be a casualty of this. He’s done nothing wrong, ” cried Remus. “She doesn’t give a shit about herself. She’ll only learn her lesson if we hurt him,” Potter replied. James turned his attention back to Severus, a wicked grin plastering over his face as he dug his wand deeper still.  “Where do we start with you, you greasy git?” James uttered an incantation, and a slash appeared across Severus’ nose. Before a drop of the boy’s blood could even exit the wound, James fell to the ground screaming. Aurelia faced him, one arm raised, her hand contorted, claws gleaming in the candlelight of the chamber. She closed her fist, and James screamed again, his body buckling under some unseen force. Lupin dropped to his knees, covering his head with his arms as James’ wails ricocheted against the walls. Peter Pettigrew too had dropped onto all fours, but managed to crawl past Aurelia to the door.  Aurelia raised another hand, this one pointed at Severus. The boy closed his eyes as though resigned to whatever terror her gesture might bring him, but she merely willed his wound to close. The only sign that he had been marked in the first place was the blood that still covered his face, wet and metallic against his lips.  She turned her gaze back to James, his wails had silenced, though his mouth was agape in silent agony, head thrown back. Bones were sticking out at odd angles, still encased in his dermis. The hard lines pressed from the inside out, begging for release from his flesh. His back was arched, his feet tucked underneath him, his arms clutched to his chest, fingers splayed every which way. Lia stepped closer, bending down to look at him, unmoved by his piteous visage. She suddenly fell to her knees in front of the boy, a gasp escaping from her as though she’d been plunged into icy water. She glanced around the small room, swallowing hard. She raised her wand to James, the boy’s tear streaked face barely capable of producing a look of fear among the agony he endured. Then he was silent. His bones no longer threatened to escape, and were snapped back into place with a wet noise inside of him.    “Obliviate,” Lia said quietly. James’ form, still taut with the memory of his pain, slowly relaxed. The boy had lost consciousness at some point in the last minute or so.Lia glanced at Remus, raised her wand to him, and repeated the spell. He too slumped after the exchange. She turned to Severus. The boy looked defiantly back at her, jaw clenched so tight it threatened to pop.  “Let’s go, Sev.” Surprise crossed his features, but he obeyed. They left the two in their unconscious state. Once free from the confines of the room, Lia slumped against Severus.  “Pettigrew,” she said, her voice hoarse. Her friend simply nodded, and supporting her weight, they followed the Marauder's map to find the rat.

It didn’t take long to find the cowering excuse for a boy. He had only turned down a few hallways before finding an empty classroom he had assumed would keep him safe. He was crammed under a desk, breathing heavily, whimpers escaping his throat unwillingly. Pettigrew shoved a fist in his mouth to muffle the sound, a useless effort. Lia and Severus stumbled into the classroom, wands raised. Lia could feel her body threatening to fold beneath her. Severus’ arm wrapped around her waist the only reason she hadn’t crumpled to the ground as they sought the Pettigrew boy. She raised her wand, hand shaking slightly with the effort. “Petrificus totalus,” she said, and the boy’s arms snapped to his sides, legs pin-straight. He toppled over, loudly pushing the desk with his weight as he crashed to the ground. “Silencio,” she muttered when she was sure he couldn’t move. She heaved herself into a nearby chair, catching her breath. “You might want to step out for this,” she told Severus, not quite meeting his eyes. “I just witnessed all of the bones in James Potter’s body threatening to rip out of his skin. I think I can handle whatever punishment you see fit to give Pettigrew.” “It’s more than just his part in today, Sev. The rat has to be punished for things I can’t share with you. Things I might not ever be able to share with you.”She watched his jaw tick. Whether it was annoyance or contemplation, she didn’t know. She was so tired, she didn’t care. She turned her focus to the statue-still body of Peter Pettigrew, mind working through all of the possible ways to deal with him. She’d told Severus the retribution she sought wasn’t just for Pettigrew’s actions today, and that was true. She knew, somewhere down the line, that Pettigrew would become the only reason Voldemort would rise a second time. That Pettigrew had lied, and spied, and betrayed countless friends to gain the Dark Lord’s favor. She had to find out if that desire for notice had already begun. She stood, slowly, with no little amount of effort. She kept her paces slow, as much to steady herself as to inflict fear into Pettigrew’s very heart. She bent low over him, breath tickling the shell of his ear. She could see that he was whimpering still, though no sound escaped him. “I know what you are, little rat.” His eyes grew wide, straining to look at her fully, though his face and body were turned away from her.  “Unfortunately for you, I have to make you unusable to Him,” she said in a whisper. She traced the lines of his face with the tip of her wand, his face gleaming with tears that relentlessly flowed from his still-searching eyes. Shallow cuts followed her wand tip. These she relished inwardly are just for me.  She turned her attention towards Severus, “Help me flip him over.” “What are you going to do?” her friend asked.  “I need to prevent him from talking to someone in particular. He needs to lose this person’s attention. It can’t be obvious,” she explained as they flipped the magically-bound boy.  She lifted Pettigrew’s shirt revealing the softness of his back. She commanded more cuts to erupt from her wand and along his back. These were far from shallow. A pattern began to unfold in the parting of his flesh. The wounds wept along his back, a shock of red against the pale white skin. She turned her wand to herself then, slashing her wrist wordlessly. She’d never understood why people in movies cut their hands for rituals. She’d tried it once. It’s inconvenient as hell. She held her forearm over the boy’s back allowing a trail of her own blood drip sluggishly into his slashes. Once satisfied, she held her hands over him as though in silent prayer. The markings on his back began to glow, red hot. Her lips moved in a silent chant, the light on his back growing brighter, the gore from her wrist slipping up her arm. When it was over, she pointed her wand again at the boy, “Obliviate. Scourgify.” The blood vanished, though Pettigrew’s trousers were still disgusting. The only evidence of the rite, the barely-visible runes etched into the boy’s back.  “Obliviate,” she uttered, finally. She’d said the incantations succinctly. Emotionlessly. Gods she was tired. The blood rite she’s just performed had wiped what remaining energy she’d had. Wordlessly, she grabbed Severus by his wrist and led him out of the classroom, leaving the still-bound Pettigrew laying in his own filth under the desk.  After a few paces, Severus spoke, “Why in gods’ name did you perform a blood curse on Peter Pettigrew? A simple Obliviate would have sufficed, don’t you think? Like you did with the rest of them?” “I told you. This was about more than just today,” she said simply. “Peter Pettigrew is involved in some scheme that requires the utmost secrecy and protection?” he asked in disbelief. “There are pieces here at work that you can’t even imagine, Severus. Just let it go. Please,” she pleaded. She’d have no issue with him asking questions had she any strength left. As such, she pulled off to slump against a nearby wall, stone cutting into her back as she slid down its length. She glanced at her wrist, blood still sluggishly dribbling out. She attempted a wordless spell to heal her wound… nothing. She allowed her head to fall back, resting on the wall behind her. Her eyes drooped shut as she clamped a hand around her wrist, wincing as the skin around the wound puckered with her grip. This would have to do for now. She could still feel Severus’ presence, the uncertainty of what he was supposed to do next. “What spell did you attempt just now?” “Something to heal this.” “ Clearly . What. Spell?” She peaked an eye open to look at him. Severus was still standing in front of her, concern clouding his face as his tall frame cast her into shadows “Just Episkey . Though I don’t know if it’ll even heal with that. Might be a side effect of the whole blood cursing thing.” Severus crouched before her. His touch was delicate as he removed the hand she had placed on her wrist, featherlight touch sending goosebumps across her skin. He reached into his robes. She expected him to produce his wand, in order to attempt her failed healing spell. Dried leaves stared back from his open palm instead. “Dittany,” he said quietly, pressing the leaves into her torn flesh.  He clamped his own hand over her wrist. They sat there in silence: Aurelia too drained to make conversation, and Severus too preoccupied with the questions he could not yet ask. When she seemed revived enough to move, the pair stood. Severus again wrapped an arm around her waist for added support, and the two made their way to the Slytherin common room, content to leave their belongings in the library for the time being. “What will they remember?” Severus asked as they made their way into the dungeons. “That I looked really fuckin’ cool, and whooped James’ ass. I doubt they’ll try anything like that again.” “A shame,” he replied, a smile in his voice, “I could do with seeing Peter Pettigrew piss his pants more often.” She laughed in response, the effort causing her clutch onto the front of his robes for more support. Their eyes locked, her laugh caught in her throat. He swallowed, hand at her waist gripping almost imperceptibly tighter.  “Severus! Aurelia! What luck to find the two of you out and about, eh?” interrupted Professor Slughorn. “I was looking to invite the two of you to a little get together in a week’s time. Some dinner, some entertainment, that sort of thing!” Aurelia cleared her throat, the first of the two to recover from – WHAT THE HELL EVEN WAS THAT?! “Er y-yes, sir. That sounds great,” she stuttered. “Excellent, excellent! Run along now! I hope I didn’t interrupt your little game. Whatever it is,” he said, gesturing to their interlocked arms and bloody robes. “Of course, professor,” replied Severus. Aurelia pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing as the Potions Master walked away.  “What the hell sort of game does he think requires us to get covered in blood?” Severus asked incredulously. “I don’t know, but that does make me even more interested in what goes down at his Slug Club meetings,” she replied with a chuckle.It seemed as though the quiet tension from earlier was yet another thing the two would ignore, until she met Severus’ eyes again. Dark and searching, the abyss of his irises stared back at her. She willed herself to turn away.  “To the common room, then.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It wasn’t as though Lia enjoyed performing a blood ritual on a 15-year old idiot. Much. There was little else for her to do in the matter, though. Peter Pettigrew had sold his soul to the Dark Lord far sooner than even Severus had in their original story. By this point in time, Pettigrew had already been marked, his fate sealed before even Aurelia could intervene. She almost pitied the boy, so caught up in his own diminished self-worth that he believed the only way to propel forward was through the guided hand of Voldemort. The serpent’s tongue dripped with honeyed words sweet enough to convince the boy to betray his only true friends. Not that she saw the appeal to befriending the Marauders, clearly.
 
She was shaking as they passed the threshold into the Slytherin common room. The lack of control coming from not only her own physical fatigue, but at how gross she felt with herself. To perform a blood rite was not without side effects of its own. She wasn’t so deranged that the Dark Magic would have no impact on her. What she had told Severus at the beginning of term was true, Dark Magic wasn’t inherently evil, but it held consequences much heavier than a simple hex or protection charm. It changed your very being, the atoms of magic within her ever-changed from the act. 
 
She told herself that this would at the very least prevent Pettigrew from selling out his friends. Hopefully. She couldn’t see him having the strength of will to overcome the excruciating pain he would find himself in should he try to divulge secrets to the Dark Lord. Maybe this would even save him, though she wouldn’t be holding her breath. There weren’t very many parameters the Council had demanded she stay within during her stay here: guide Severus (obviously). Ensure the Dark Lord’s terror could not succeed - for without Severus, he surely would. Keep her damn mouth shut about the Council. She’d worked out from her debriefing that she’d have to destroy the horcruxes, destroy the Dark Lord’s forces from the inside, by herself. She would have had to face Pettigrew at one point or another, today seemed like an opportune moment for it. 
 
One of her many regrets was all that Severus had witnessed. In the span of less than an hour he’d seen Potter tortured, multiple minds wiped, a blood rite, and Aurelia herself out of control. He must be reeling. Not to mention… whatever it was that had happened just outside their dorms. Had he almost kissed her? Would she have kissed him back? She almost scoffed at herself. Of course she would have. Then she would have had the distinct displeasure of distancing herself necessarily. It seemed rather unseemly to kiss the boy without him having the slightest clue what she was or why she was here. There was more with Severus, she couldn’t deny that.

She stole a glance at him then, still supported by his arm. His lips were pursed as though he was as deep in his thoughts as she was. She supposed that was fair. She decided to break the silence.
 
“Just toss me onto the couch there,” she said, stirring him out of his reverie.
 
He blinked at her as though she’d said something absolutely ludicrous. It was then that she realized he might have been pondering their almost-kiss as deeply as she had.
 
“Er- so I can rest a bit, and make my way upstairs. I don’t think you’ll be able to help me up there.”
 
“Yes of course,” he said after clearing his throat.
 
He gently set her onto the sofa in front of them, standing awkwardly in front of her. His eyes refused to meet hers, instead he regarded the embroidery on a nearby pillow with seemingly great interest. 
 
“So,” she started, attempting to break the tension that so obviously hung in the air, “looks like we have a party to attend. Who would have thought?” 
 
She nudged him with the tip of her boot, vaguely remembering a similar interaction between the two of them earlier that same day, willing him to look at her. Her thoughts were reeling.

He must think I’m a monster. I can’t believe he even helped me after all that.

“Why’d you come after me? You must have known it was a trap,” he finally said. Her head tilted in confusion at his statement.
 
“Well, yeah, but it was my fault you got taken in the first place. They knew I’d come after you.

I

knew I’d come after you, even if it

was

a trap. Probably would have done it even if I thought Potter and the others would have put up a good fight. Luckily, they didn’t. Not so luckily, my emotions got the better of me. I could have burned the castle down,” she said, words spilling out of her quickly. 
 
His eyebrows drew together. She could see the disbelief there, “Why?” was all he said.
 
“Because I care about you, you idiot,” she said simply. She’d promised not to lie to him, hadn’t she?
 
“There are many things I do not understand about you, Aurelia, and that seems to be at the top of the list.”
 
He sagged onto the couch next to her, head thrown back, eyes closed. For once, his brows did not knit together into his ever-familiar scowl.

Progress

she thought to herself with a grin.
 
“Will the Marauders not continue their pursuits without the distress of their memories from today?” he asked without moving.
 
“I kept just enough to dissuade them from any other attempts. Changed some of James’ emotional responses to his memories too,” she replied.

He looked at her from the side of his eyes, one brow lifted in question.
 
“How is it that you seem to have mastered wordless and wandless spellcasting as well as mind magic no less?”
 
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you, and that would

really

defeat the purpose of it all,” she stated. It was as honest as she’d allow herself to be about the subject. He ignored her comment, probably assuming it was a joke. 
 
“What you said to Lily,” he began before he lost whatever he was going to say next.
 
Her face reddened, but she ignored her urge to hide away from her embarrassment. She pressed on, “What I said to Lily was true. She’s a coward. And an idiot. You kind of were too, though, thinking she was the only one that would be your friend, Sev.”
 
He rolled his eyes at her. 
 
“Did you happen to notice that my friend group only expanded when you were by my side? Others put up with

me

, but they actually like

you

.”
 
“Well, I’m a delight. What can I say? Really though, I think you’d be surprised at what could  happen if you just opened yourself up. You’ve given me the chance to see you, why not others?”
 
He scoffed, “I am not getting into the intricacies of my vulnerability issues with you right now.”
 
“Maybe you should work that out before you’re stuck with the flippant friendships of Lily Evans and the others that will come after her,” she said with a smirk.
 
“Planning on abandoning me?”
 
She swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t take notice. Hoping his head was still thrown back, and his eyes were glancing at the ceiling rather than at her, “Not anytime soon, Sev. You can’t get rid of me that easily. That much should have been obvious from the moment we met.”
 
She turned her head to face him. He was indeed staring at the ceiling. When he noticed her gaze falling on him, he turned to her. Their eyes met, his dancing with black fire, hers flitting from blue to green with her own inner turmoil. She again broke their silence.
 
“I think I need to sleep for a couple of days,” she groaned, slipping down the couch so she was slumped into its cushions, “I’ll definitely need to get into the woods sooner than normal. It just

took over,

” she shuddered at the memory of her helplessness. The lack of control over herself.
 
“The Drake?” he asked.
 
“Yeah. There are a lot of things I still don’t understand about it. I can’t really have a lot of those questions answered right now. I’m trying to figure it out,” she huffed.
 
“When will you go next?”
 
“To the forest? Tomorrow, probably.”
 
“Take me with you,” he whispered.

She didn’t know what had come over her. She was letting him tag along to her transformation, the explosion of all of the things she couldn’t let out. It was stupid. Dangerous. Completely insane, and she was… excited about it.

He could get killed,

she thought.

He wants to see

another voice said inside her head. The latter won out, and she found herself trudging into the forest by the light of the moon accompanied by none other than Severus Snape. 
 
“I’ll set wards, of course, but you really should keep your distance once we get farther in,” she told him. 
 
He nodded. Though silent, his eyes twinkled with the excitement he no doubt felt at their excursion. His eyes tended to do that more often, she’d noticed. Like he was slowly coming alive. Without thinking, she reached her hand down to close around his. The long, cool fingers squeezed her own in return. She picked up the pace, trotting deeper into the wooded landscape in front of them, until they were running. Hand-in-hand, laughter echoing around them they wove closer to their destination. 
 
Out of breath, and stumbling over rocks and tree roots, it began. She could feel it pouring out of her, could see her skin begin to shimmer in the darkness surrounding them. She stopped abruptly, still keeping his hand closed in hers. She slipped her wand out from her sleeve and into her other hand. She cast wards around them both, to keep their excursion silent from whatever else might be in the forest. With one last squeeze of his hand, she let go of him. She moved a few paces away, warding the area around her to keep her magic contained, and Severus from harm. 
 
This was different from when he’d last witnessed her in these woods. The rage and anguish she’d felt that time had consumed her, fire raging out of her dangerously, threatening to burn everything in her path. She still had the anger from the day before, but she felt lighter. Maybe it had something to do with Severus seeing her in all her terror, but deciding he wouldn’t be afraid of her. Really, deciding he wanted to witness more of her. His interest in her was different than anything she’d had before. He wasn’t scared of her like the other recruits from the Council, and he wasn’t intent on using her like the Fates had been. He was simply intrigued, and she liked that.
 
White light spilled out of her. Hair floating above her head, eyes glowing red hot. She felt wings sprout from her back as she began to rise from the ground. Feet dangling, arms spread wide, wings outstretched, she turned to him. An explosion erupted from her. Purples and blues and pinks cascaded around her, only to be stopped by an invisible dome of magic, containing her might. 
 
Severus sat cross-legged, leaning forward, in awe. The light of her detonation reflected in his obsidian eyes. A wonder lingered there that she’d only seen as they’d brewed a particularly difficult potion, or when he’d successfully cast a new spell wordlessly. She felt her heart ache to be at the receiving end of that look.
 
When all was said and done, they lingered in the wooded clearing a beat.
 
“You were magnificent,” Severus said after a while. There was a smile on his face that had been plastered there since they crossed the threshold into the forest. 
 
“Some of my best work, I’d say,” she said with a chuckle. 
 
“When will you let me come with you again?”
 
Her lips parted, the words she’d wanted to say fell dead on her tongue.

Forever. Always.

“Whenever you feel like it,” she said instead.
 
"You should really consider Occlumency, though."
 "Oh yeah? Why's that?" "You're like a pot of water on the stove, always about to boil over. You need to learn to control what you do with your emotions, and when you do them. More than these bouts in the woods. Occlumency helps with that. If you use it right." "And you'll teach me?" "Of course." 
After that they took their time making their way back to the castle, talking about classes, upcoming exams, and of course Slughorn’s party.
 
“Just how are we going to get out of that?” Lia asked.
 
“We won’t,” Severus said darkly.
 
“At least we’ll be there together. Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she said.

The party itself wasn’t exactly terrible, despite it being Severus’ worst nightmare, and a complete waste of time for Aurelia. Oh, and the fact that at least three attendees deeply wished them ill-will. Slughorn was in perfect form, however. Clearly the professor had been indulging in his stores of firewhiskey or elvish wine before the party had even started. His cheeks were flushed, and his words were beginning to slur. Yet, he managed to herd them both into a conversation with a rather famous potioneer.
 
“Yes, yes. Mr. Snape here is rather excellent in class. Quick as a whip this boy. You’d better keep your eye out, Edward. He could very well serve as a fine apprentice one of these days. Mr. Snape, you know all about Edward Hasting’s work, I’m sure. Finest potioneer of our time, I daresay.”
 
Severus’ visage remained neutral but for the lightly pink tinge on the very tips of his ears. Lia snickered quietly into her drink at his discomfort, earning her an elbow in the ribs.
 
“And Aurelia Drake here is equally impressive, though potions are not her passion, I’m afraid, are they my dear?”
 
“I find potions deeply fascinating, professor. Though, I confess I could never really see myself pursuing it as a career.” 
 
“No, much too boring for the likes of you. Too much fire in your blood for dark chambers and waiting for cauldrons to brew, eh?”
 
“You don’t know the half of it, sir.”
 
“Miss Drake here is from America of all places, Edward. Yes, charming girl.”
 
Severus poorly hid his smirk at the attention being directed towards her now. Her turn to elbow him.
 
“You know, sir, Severus and I were hoping to…” she gestured to no one in particular.
 
“Of course, of course! Mingle!” the man boomed, spreading his arms and sloshing his drink over the side of his glass.
 
Severus grabbed the sleeve of her cloak, mirroring a behavior that was historically hers. He steered them to an empty set of chairs just near enough another group of students that it would appear they were indeed following their professor’s instruction to mingle, while still giving them enough privacy to have a conversation all their own.
 
“Slughorn seems to have my future all figured out,” Severus said.
 
“Ah, yes. Severus Snape, potions master. Who could have guessed?”
 
“I guess that would make the most sense. Though I do love engineering new spells. I guess I hadn’t given it much thought. What about you?”

“Hmm. Something noble, like troll wrestling,” she said, her eyes perusing the crowd. They landed on three pairs staring back intently. Sirius, Lily, and James quickly averted their eyes when they were caught. No longer a threat, but still annoying nonetheless.
 
She turned to say as much to Severus when she caught him staring not at the thorns in their side, but at her. His head was cocked to the side just so, an inquiring look.
 
“Really. What do you think you’ll do?” he asked her, those black eyes boring into her own.
 
“I haven’t really thought about it either. Maybe healing, or a cursebreaker?” not entirely a lie, not entirely the truth, “I couldn’t see myself working for the ministry. Yours or mine. I’ll have to go back to the States after Hogwarts, I’m sure.”
 
His lips thinned into a fine line.
 
“You could stay.”
 
“I’ll come back, Sev. Swear it.”
 
And she’d do everything in her power to ensure that was the truth.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Severus
 The final few terms passed before Severus knew it. He and Lia spent all waking hours together, even her ventures into the woods. He taught her Occlumency as best he could, but it seemed as though she had been conditioned to hide away her emotions until she was so full of them she could burst. Not that he particularly minded their trips off the grounds, or bearing witness to her power. She was breathtaking.  At school, they studied. They ate. They read. They spoke. They sat in silence. More and more often they were joined by their Ravenclaw friends, who it seemed were in this friendship for the long haul, not just fifth year. Severus most enjoyed the time he spent with Aurelia alone, however. They had both done exceedingly well in their O.W.L.S. Aurelia to no one’s surprise getting Os in all of her subjects, and Severus tightly following behind. Had she been anyone else, he might have hated her for it. Breaks were the worst for Severus. Though Aurelia made her way through his bedroom window most weeks, he was still left to endure home when she was otherwise engaged, doing whatever in gods’ name she did while she was away. Her arrivals sparked life into his soul. They traveled far and wide together. On occasion, she would set up a series of portkeys to take them someplace he’d never even heard of. Other times, they would wander London and the surrounding areas, both Muggle and Magical alike.  “You can’t expect to make me a mixtape if you don’t even know where to get good music, Sev. And I do expect a mixtape one of these days.” One week he had ventured to a muggle music store nearby Spinner’s End, hoping to do just that. When he asked the clerk if he had any of the discs that Aurelia usually left or sent him. The clerk had asked if it was some kind of joke, and pointed at a wall of rectangular objects lining the walls, then gestured to the much larger, black discs that could be found in cardboard sleeves around the place. Neither of which were what Severus was looking for. “Yeah, I wouldn’t go doing that again, Sev. Those are.. They’re not my invention, but they’re definitely not mainstream. Yet.” Their outings always left him breathless, his stomach often hurting from the laughter she pulled out of him. All the while she seemed as though she was searching for something. He knew she’d never admit as much, but he found himself curious nonetheless.  Scrutiny from the Marauders slowly faded as the pair distanced themselves over the years, the group growing bored at their inability to make much headway in annoying or attacking Aurelia or Severus. One was almost always with another, and it wasn’t as though any of the lot was especially enthused at the idea of taking Aurelia on again. Sirius and Lily being the only ones without their minds wiped were still wary enough to stay out of matters altogether. Remus was never much of a threat by himself, just a tagalong for the rest of them. James, without Sirius, lacked the ability to follow through with anything creative enough to truly upset Severus, Lia was rarely riled enough those days to be impacted by the little that the group could accomplish. Severus could easily track their stages in time based on Lia’s frequent gifting of musical gifts. One of his favorites happened to be part of his seventeenth birthday present.

Severus Snape’s 17 Super Sweet Symphonies

Goodmorning - Bleachers

I saw her standing there - the Beatles

All Star - Smash Mouth

Cigarette Daydreams - Cage The Elephant

Coming Attractions - Nodaway

Paper Planes - M.I.A.

It’s Tricky - Run-D.M.C.

Dancing Queen - ABBA

Neon Tiger - The Killers

I Love Rock n Roll - Alan Merrill

Dancing in the Moonlight - King Harvest

Strange Magic - Electric Light Orchestra

Magic Man - Heart

Sugar - Urban Cone

Feel It Still - Portugal. The Man

Get Low - Lil Jon & the East Side Boyz

Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks

It had been the longest one yet, and had continued to blast in his ears long after she slipped from his window frame after their excursion for the day: a quick trip to an ancient magical library somewhere in East Asia, followed by a meal (complete with a birthday cake she had baked herself and managed to carry over two continental trips unscathed), and stargazing once the sun had set. His parents hadn’t given any indication whether they’d remembered or not. They probably had not. Those discs were his escape when he was truly unable to escape the hellscape of home. It became easier once he could use magic, though his father still forbade it within the confines of their house. He at least could aparate away when the aging man drank himself into a rage.  Severus asked Aurelia for her plans after Hogwarts more frequently as the close to their seventh year approached. Exams being the only barrier between the two of them and the wide world outside the confines of the castle grounds. Aurelia kept to the script she’d uttered that night at Slughorn’s party. Always something about returning to the Americas, for what she’d never say. She’d follow up by stating she would “figure it out,” and would promptly change the conversation to his plans after school. He had indeed been offered an apprenticeship with Edward Hastings, as long as Severus passed his N.E.W.T.S. with O’s of course. In just two years Severus could operate as a potions master himself should everything go according to plan. As exams came to a close, and his fellow Slytherin 7th year boys were packing their things, anticipating their final ride from Hogwarts, Severus reflected on how differently his life could have been without his friend’s intervention at the start of 5th year. Would he be a Death Eater? He couldn’t fathom going down that path now. He glanced at Crabbe and Goyle, the pair had never so much as made eye contact with Severus after that day in the study chambers. They seemed graver, somehow. More resigned. Would that have been him? He knew things would change in the coming years. Discord was brewing, he could feel it.  Finally, they exited the Hogwarts express for their final time. Aurelia and Severus lingered in King’s Cross Station, neither really wanting to leave the other’s company. Both of them coming up with different excuses to stay far longer than necessary. Severus was excited for what the future held, what came next. He had visions of what the two of them could accomplish side by side. “I’ll have to visit you. And you’d better come visit me before I start apprenticing for Hastings,” he said with the biggest grin he’d probably ever had on his face. She had said something in return, though he couldn’t think of it as he reflected back on that day. Their conversation died, as had the crowd at the station. It was time for them to part ways. “Goodbye, Sev,” she said. Her face had fallen, and she gave him a sad smile. She scooped him into a crushing hug, and just as quickly as she’d pulled him in, she released him. She waved at him as she stepped away. Then she was gone, lost in the bricks of platform 9 ¾.

Their letters started out as a daily occurrence. They’d write about everything, which usually amounted to nothing really at all. What they ate, what music they were listening to, what books they were reading. Then the letters began to spread out, she’d forgotten to write back. In the fall of that same year he sent her a letter about the Order, I think I might join the cause, and  began counting the days until he heard from her again. And one day turned into many, and many days turned into months, and months into years. If he had known the mundane letter he received from the girl would be his last, he might have cherished it more, read every line a million times over. But he hadn’t known, and so that letter, filled with a detailed description of porridge of all things, had gotten lost amongst his other belongings, boxed up in Spinner’s End. He thought of her less and less, though he would sometimes be reminded of her when the sun would set, the final shining rays of light reflecting the color of her eyes when she had been particularly excited about something. He would pull out the last disc she had gifted him, slipped into the pocket of his robes at the station that day, finding himself lost in her last goodbye. The tightness in his chest would startle him in those moments: thrust back in time like he was seventeen again, the war barely a thought in his mind. But he wasn’t seventeen anymore, and he hadn’t been in a long while.

Forever Together - Foxy Shazam

Agnes - Glass Animals

First Love/Late Spring - Mitski

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Ceilings - Lizzy McAlpine

Heartbeats - Jose Gonzalez

All Your Favorite Bands - Dawes

Old Friend - Sea Wolf

Northern Star - Dom Fera

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Book III: The War
 1982 Severus had been with the Order for over three years. Much of his time was spent replenishing their potion stores, which increasingly took larger and larger hits as battles raged on. How some in the magical community could ignore the war escaped him. It consumed his life. After his apprenticeship he had returned to Hogwarts, accepting the job of Potions Master at the behest of Dumbledore himself. The figurehead for the Order rarely made such requests without ulterior motives, this Severus knew. Severus wasn’t exactly elated to be spending most of his waking hours with children, correcting them in tedium, but he did not hate the steady comfort that brewing brought him. It was predictable, unlike life outside the castle walls. He still participated in the odd battle, beside the likes of Lily Eva–Potter, now. Potter.  That was still a shock. It had been years since he and Lily had sat in the same room, let alone spoken to one another. Being an Order member quickly remedied their separation. Severus was still unenthused by this. Though no longer icy, his ties to the Marauders, and Lily, were not friendly. They were colleagues. Nothing more. Aside from that drunken night last year when he and Lily had found themselves alone after a vicious battle. They certainly hadn’t spoken. Not with words at least. They’d simply given each other what they’d both needed at the time. Companionship. Comfort. Release. They hadn’t so much as discussed their rendezvous in their passings preceding the event. She had a child with James, whom she was “happily” married to. Severus had no interest in pursuing things further. She still lacked the qualities he sought. Those would be hard to find. It was after an Order meeting that Dumbledore beckoned to him, requesting he stay after the others had left the appointed meeting room in Susan Bones’ summer home. Severus remained seated as Black and the Potters left the room, casting him curious glances. “Severus,” the old man finally said. His eyes still shone despite the gruesome details he had relayed to the group just moments before. “Albus,” he offered in return, dipping his head with a slight nod. “How are you faring with the school year within sight?” the headmaster asked. He was seated as well. Silvery hair mingling with the shimmering robes he wore. His hands were clasped in his lap. “Very well, I suppose. I imagine the students will be repugnant as usual, but that is to be expected. There are a fair few that are, astonishingly, teachable in the older years. They will offer some much needed reprieve from the first years and the like,” Severus could feel his jaw ticking.  While he had gotten used to meetings like these with Dumbledore, ones where the subject-matter seemed completely useless, bordering on a wasteful use of time, he still seemed incapable of completely ignoring the apprehension he often felt during these encounters. “Very good,” Dumbledore replied, smiling, “When is it you’ll be returning to the castle?” “When you will it, though I had intended to wait another week. I have personal affairs to tend to before my departure.” “A week will do. That is all, Severus. I do look forward to this year. It should be interesting, wouldn't you say?” He left the room without waiting for a response, leaving Severus to contemplate the old man’s cryptic wording.  Seveus did indeed have personal matters to attend to. Both of his parents had, finally, become incapable of sustaining themselves alone. They were being placed in care facilities this week, and Severus had to ensure their placement came with proper protections in place. It wouldn’t do to have a senile old witch casting hexes at unsuspecting Muggles. Their need for assisted living required him to travel to Spinner’s end. He hadn’t been since he’d left Hogwarts at seventeen. He apparated there immediately. Upon his arrival, he was greeted by his mother’s shrill voice, his father’s slurred baritone, the stench of cigarettes, and a raven. Hmm. He ignored his parents’ bickering, occupying his time instead with the raven, and the parcel curiously attached to its leg. Owls were normally used for deliveries, but he supposed any intelligent fowl would do, though he struggled to call upon any acquaintance he had that would use such a bird.  The sound of a dish breaking over his head distracted him just enough to miss the bird flying away as the thin parcel was removed. He absent-mindedly began opening it, ducking his head to avoid any other projectiles that might find their way to him.  He stilled as he finally registered what lay in his hands. A silver disc, the handwriting unmistakable.

Hello - Adele

Welcome Home - Coheed and Cambria

Hi again - Tuckalow

Hey Lover - Blake Mills

One More Thrill - KOLARS

Devil Woman - Cliff Richard

Who is She - I Monster

He hadn’t heard from Aurelia in nearly four years. He had thought of her often at first, but that had faded as he began to realize that she would not be writing again. His thoughts turned to her upon his return to Hogwarts, every alcove and corridor marked with some memory of her, but even that had subsided after a time. Now? He felt as though he’d been hit squarely in the chest with a bludger. “When did this raven arrive?” he asked his parents, spinning to face them. “Wha the bloody ‘ell are you on about, boy?” slurred his father. “Raven?” was all his mother said, another plate grasped in her hand. “The raven. The raven that was in the bloody window, you hopeless fools. When did it get here?” “Don’ know who yer callin’ a fool, son. Seein as there’s no bird ‘ere.” His mother stared blankly back. He swallowed his rage, opting to finish his business here as quickly as possible. The sooner those two were someone else’s problem, the better. He could investigate the disc and its delivery later. He slid his newfound possession into his robes for safekeeping.  A handful of hours, and many distractions directed at his father, later Severus had successfully packed the entirety of their home. He stood in the empty and rotting shell of a house, gazing with distaste at the lack of happy memories that came to him as he waited for his mother to finish her final walkthrough of the place.  After his parents were dropped off, proper precautions ensured, he traveled to his own home. He was anxious to be in his own space, to wash off the grime of the day, both emotional and physical he supposed. He had kept a hand in his pocket for nearly the whole day, fearing the raven and parcel had been his imagination.  He lived in a modest loft just outside of London. It was packed to the brim with books and spare potion ingredients. He had built his collection over the past four years, and had been a resident in this loft since leaving Spinner’s End those few years ago. Here he allowed himself to wonder openly at this sudden and unexpected trip down memory lane. 
It can’t really be her. Could it? But who else would know about her communication through songs? 
 His thoughts swirled just as the contents of his glass did. Amber liquid lapped around the chunk of ice that frosted his fingertips through the material. He spent the following days dizzyingly attempting to locate the owner of the raven, reaching far and wide to even his most estranged acquaintances. His labors were less than fruitful. He arrived at Hogwarts a week later, silently stewing. The depths of his imagination were only made worse by listening to the disc itself. What the hell did that mean? He had agonized over it. Replayed it until he was sure the disc would melt from its endeavors. It was different from the incessant listening he did in his younger years, this was obsessive, insidious, filling every corner of his consciousness in his waking hours.  He was not so plagued by these thoughts that he found himself outright oblivious to being followed to his dungeon chambers, however. The steps were light, a few paces behind him. Students weren’t due to arrive for a week yet, and no other professors would deign to enter the dungeons unless necessary. Certainly, none of them would follow behind Severus without uttering a word. He swept into an alcove suddenly, and waited for his pursuer. As they rounded the corner, Severus used one hand to grab them by the throat, the other was used to angle his wand towards their face.  “This is like, the kinkiest greeting I think I’ve ever gotten in my life, Sev.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

He could feel her throat work to swallow against the pressure of his grip around her. Her. Her? It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be real. Every neuron in his brain was firing, telling him it was a trick. Telling him there was absolutely no way he was this close to her after these years,

touching

her even. As his brain worked, his heart sent a steady pulse, screaming one thing alone:

Aurelia.

His eyes searched hers, turquoise pools he could drown in, the familiar ring of gold a bright fire among the cool waves of her irises. 
 
“Are we going any further with this, or do you think you can drop your hand?” she asked, gripping his wrist with a delicate touch. His hand remained at her throat, though the grip loosened ever-so-slightly.
 
“You know Legillimency isn’t an option. ‘Member what happened last time?” she asked, arching her brow in a painfully familiar way.
 
Actually, much of her was painfully familiar. The sly smile in her tone, the shade of her hair, that damnable eyebrow. Though it was clear she had changed over the years. Changes he hadn’t been around for, hadn’t been clued in on. His heart ached at the thought. 
Her face was more angular, losing the soft fullness of childhood. A scar crackled through her right eyebrow, another shot from the bridge of her nose down her right cheek. She’d be giving Lupin a run for his money. Her body too, had changed. Gone was the adolescent form he had known, replaced by the smooth curve of hips, powerful legs, the mouthwatering slope of–
 
“Earth to Severus,” she said, snapping him out of his reverie. Literally. She was snapping her fingers in front of him. His eyes met hers once again. He hadn’t noticed their descent. 
 
“What are you doing here?” he asked her.
 
“You’re looking at this year’s Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor,” she said, winking.
 
He was silent in return.
 
“We have some catching up to do. Will you allow me that?” she asked.
 
Her eyes were hopeful, but guarded. Her pulse thrummed under his touch. Finally, he stepped back, releasing her from his grip. As soon as he did, he was thrown back. She had launched into him, wrapping her arms around him in a vice-like embrace. She stood on her toes, as she circled his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. The scent of her overwhelmed him, and he thought of all the times the smell of fire and jasmine and saffron had blessed his senses.
 
“Merlin, I’ve missed you, Sev. You have no idea,” she whispered.
 
He stood frozen in her embrace, uncertain how to respond. Internally, he was wrestling between conflicting responses. A part of him wanted to shove her off of him. To yell at her. She had

left

. She had made him feel cared for, and important, and she had disappeared. A different part of him wanted to wrap his arms tightly around her in return. To hold her, and never let her go. Instead, he did nothing. Time seemed to slow as she dropped her arms from him, the absence of her warmth leaving him chilled in more ways than one. 
 
She took a step away from him, hand raising to the back of her neck. He had never seen her so uncertain.
 
“Come,” was all he said before swirling out of the alcove in a plume of robes.
 
He made no effort to shorten his strides as he continued towards his chambers. She wanted to talk.

What

he thought to himself

could she possibly have to say after all this time? And why am I even allowing her this much?

He knew, of course,

why

. Because a part of him was still seventeen and hopeful. Because he

wanted

her to give him a good enough reason for her disappearance. Because despite the grief, and fear, and hurt he had felt at her absence, he loved her.

Damn it all.

He hadn’t spared a glance in her direction, but he knew she walked beside him. Her legs working at twice the speed to keep up. He smirked internally at the thought, a sick satisfaction that she had to work to remain in his presence. He slowed his steps as they entered the potions classroom. The wards around his office were quickly and quietly dealt with. He heard her hum of appraisal as the door swung open, revealing the large wooden desk, the leather-bound books lining the walls, the collection music that littered a small table in the corner. 
 
Ignoring the noise she made, Severus slid into the chair behind his desk. His fingers tented in front of him, as he rested his elbows on the solid wood. It was a position he had taken to during his time as a professor, almost second-nature once he was seated in the leather desk chair. 
She sat in one of the chairs opposite him, clearly hiding a smirk at his posture. He felt his jaw tick as he slowly sat back. He waited for her. Severus would not be the first to break the silence in this room, of that he was determined. 
 
“Very professor-like. It suits you,” she smiled genuinely at him then. The way her mouth tilted up in just the left corner, and how her eyes crinkled stopping his heart for the briefest of moments.
 
He blinked in return.
 
“Down to business then,” she said, sucking her teeth, “You never were one for small talk, I guess. Still not sure if I like that or hate that about you.”
 
She took a deep breath before starting again.

“Right, so. I’ve been a bit indisposed the past couple of years.”
 
“For four years. I’m

dying

to know what kept you away from even an owl for all this time,” Severus drolled, eyes darkening.
 
“Fair enough. At first, I tried to keep up. I did!” she said, raising her voice as she picked up on the disbelief in his expression.
 
“Spare me the half-witted excuses that you’ve no doubt been cycling through for the last four years, Miss Drake,” she rolled her eyes at his use of her surname, “You wish to make amends? Do. Not. Lie. That is all I have ever asked of you. Is it not?”
 
She stood at that, startling him enough to make him widen his eyes at her sudden movement. She leaned over his desk, hands slamming onto its surface. Though he was seated, he was still a head taller than her. He’d never be idiotic enough to point this out, of course.
 
“You have absolutely no fucking clue the hell I’ve been through,” she stormed, voice wavering. 
 
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t have any insight on the matter. That

is

what tends to happen when one ceases contact with another,” he replied, his voice equally dangerous.
 
“You really think so little of me - that our friendship for those years meant nothing. You truly think I would just leave you behind without so much as a second thought if I could have helped it? I wonder how long it took you to stop thinking about me. A month? When you realized I’d stopped writing, what exactly did you think had happened to me?”
 
He rose to his full height, towering over her now more than ever. A rage like he’d never felt took over.
 
“Out.”
 
She laughed. He swiped everything off the surface of his desk in return.
 
“OUT,” he roared, pointing at the door.
 
“No, dumbass. We’re having a conversation. I’ll leave when it’s over. Did you think that I’d just gotten new friends? Got bored of you?” she replied, continuing to assault him with incessant questioning.
 
“I thought you’d

died!”

he yelled
 
He was breathing heavily.

There. Was she pleased now?

“I thought you’d died,” he said more quietly. 
 
“Oh.”
 
“I looked for you. For months. Actually, for years. There was no trace of you, no proof you had even existed in the first place. I'd even had to wrestle with the idea that I'd simply made you up. Of course, I had fleeting thoughts that we had grown apart. That not seeing each other regularly made you distance yourself. Then I grieved you, Lia. I had to.”
 
He could feel his face twisted in agony, reflecting the pain in his heart he’d felt for the last three and a half years. When he could find no records of her, he had known that she was gone from this world. He’d had to make his peace with that fact when any leads had turned up fruitless. Hope of her return, another letter or disc, was too unbearable when he was met with the frequent disappointment of her continued absence. He glanced at her, seeing her posture relax. She swallowed hard before speaking. As she did, her eyes met his. They were red with tears, a stark contrast to the icy blue of her irises. 
 
“I might as well have been. If that makes you feel any better,” she said hollowly, returning to her seat, “I was traveling in those first few months, sending letters when I could about the things you could know back then. Which really amounted to very little.”
 
He followed her lead, seating himself in his chair. A weight had been lifted from him. Not all of it, and certainly not the gnaw of anxiety that ate at the pit of his stomach. There was some sort of relief in knowing that she would have written if she’d been able. That relief was quickly replaced with anguish as she continued detailing the last four years of her life. 
 
She seemed vacant. As though she was not fully within her physical body.

Occluding

he realized. She had been searching for something. If looks could kill, she would be a corpse in the chair.

Does she really expect me to be content with a story lacking so many details?

She had sensed his annoyance, opting to inform him of Voldemort’s fragmented power. Relics containing these shards spread far and wide. 
 
“There are still going to be things I can’t tell you. Whether for the war effort, or because I genuinely don’t know if the information would get you killed, Sev. I’m not asking you to be okay with that, but just try to understand for now.”
 
In searching for these fragments, she’d come into contact with more than a handful of blockades. Her own magic fell short more than once, a startling revelation. She’d been to Albania and Indonesia, searching for a snake of all things. Returning to Europe after such an excursion resulted in being kidnapped by Thidrek’s Court, an ancient sect of dragonslayers, the very ones that had pushed her family out of the region originally. 
 
“I apologize, but you have never been one to tell a comprehensive timeline without getting distracted - why were you searching for a snake in Albania?” he interrupted her.
 
“Albania

and

Indonesia. I had to make sure he hadn’t changed the snake yet.”
 
“But one snake in particular?”
 
“Well she’s cursed, obviously.”
 
“It’s a girl snake.”
 
“Well, a Maledictus. Or Naga, depending on who you ask, hence Indonesia. Anyway, back to me getting

kidnapped

,” she said with a glare. He felt his ears grow warm with self-consciousness, and inclined his head to indicate she should continue.
 
Apparently Thidrek’s Court had not easily forgotten her family, the power they wielded millennia ago. She’d been

used

by them, her properties honed through devices they had developed in the years after the Firedrake family fled. Any attempt she’d made to escape was quickly thwarted, earning her nothing short of a torturous retribution from Bernard Drek, leader of the fellowship.
 
“That’s how I got this little number,” she said, gesturing to the scar across her nose. His jaw clenched, threatening to crack. It seemed he had a great deal of individuals to end, and the list simply grew longer.
 
She’d escaped with the help of Drek’s son, Torre. Severus thought he caught a hint of a blush on her face as she said the man’s name. He knew he shouldn’t feel it, but a writing coil of jealousy took root in his stomach.
 
“What, did you bat your eyelashes at him? Promise sweet nothings to him?” Severus asked, mirthlessly.
 
“Who, Torre? No. I spat at him every chance I got. Guess he liked that,” she said with a wink.
 
Well Severus certainly didn’t. 
 
“That’s what, probably the first two years? I’ve sorta been on the run since, trying to recover those fragments. Things are… jumbled, I guess? In different places than where I’d thought they’d be,” she swallowed, retreating into herself, that faraway expression back in her eyes.
 
“I did briefly have to kidnap a witch, though she seemed to rather enjoy the company. Some days I felt like she’d kidnapped me and not the other way around. I let her go after about a week. Paid her for her services, of course. I think she works here now, actually - Trelawney?”
 
He felt his mouth drop open.
 
“You kidnapped Sybill Trelawney and didn’t off yourself from the extended proximity?” 
 
She chuckled dryly, then continued.
 
“After that I had to go to plan B for the fragments. There was one person that I knew would have some idea of where to look. Everything I’d gotten ahead of time was vague, or lacked too many of the details that I needed. I asked Regulus Black to help me.”
 
Severus shot out of his chair again, sliding around to the other side of the desk. 
 
“A known Death Eater,” he said as calmly as he could.
 
“He was looking for a way to destroy Voldemort. He- he knew where to look. So I went with him. I thought we’d both have a better chance of it, of staying alive even, if we were both there. He’d been planning on just taking his house elf.”
 
“Did he harm you?” Severus asked, his voice a deadly cold.
 
“No. Worse,” as she said it, her hollow eyes met his once again, brimming with tears that threatened to cascade down her cheeks. She tilted her head back to prevent them from falling.
 
“We had a plan. I knew not to touch the water. I’d told him as much. There was a potion blocking us from the fragment. One of us had to drink it. There was no way I was going to make him do it. So he fed the potion to me, and I saw the most wretched memories, and fears brought to life in front of me. I’d said to haul me out, and leave as quickly as possible after the fragment was uncovered. To ignore what I might say, or ask of him. He didn’t listen. 
 
“I was begging him for water, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t cast

aguamenti

in the cave. We were surrounded by water, on a little island in a submerged lake. He got me water the only way he could.
 
“It was deadly quiet in there, and I was still reeling from what the potion was making me see. When he went to get me more water, something pulled him under. At first I didn’t know what happened. Then there were Inferi. An endless flow of them, clawing their way out of the lake.”
 
“Lia,” Severus started, pausing when she held up a hand. 
 
“He’d already been under for so long. I couldn’t find my wand; I must have dropped it at some point, but I couldn’t

do

anything. They pulled me under too. Have you ever felt the touch of the undead? It’s worse than how they describe it in books: with every pull away from them, you’re tearing their flesh off of their bones. Feeling it peel away, cold, damp, reeking. Gods the smell of it alone. And when their hands are everywhere, reaching out for you, squishing and rotten,” She had started sobbing, choking on her words, voice thick with emotion.
 
“I don’t know how long I’d been drowning, or how long Regulus had been either at that point. The worst part was seeing him still fighting underwater. The glow from his casting illuminating their hands shredding his flesh apart, and knowing I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Then everything stopped.”

She paused to collect herself, swallowing before she began again.
 
“When I came to, I was stepping out of a fireball, still on that lake. I didn’t know how long I’d been like that. It felt like an eternity. It had been six months. I didn’t know what it meant, that I could have survived for that long.”
 
Severus was lost for words for possibly the first time in his life. He knelt in front of her, noticing her gaze was still fixed on the ceiling above, and grasped her hands in his. They sat like that for some time. Neither having any idea what to do or say next.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Eventually, the two separated. Aurelia gave one final squeeze before Severus slid his long white fingers out of her grasp. She had slowly gathered herself, the weight of his hands in hers bringing her the steadiness she so desperately needed. Merlin, she had missed that. Honestly, their conversation (or perhaps it was a fight?) had gone better than she’d expected. She had genuinely thought the man would hex her as soon as he had laid eyes on her. The wand pointed between her eyes had indicated his intent, at least. Four years is an incredibly long time to go without speaking to someone. That time apart was only made painstakingly more evident as the two had spoken on a near daily basis beforehand. 
 
No, she had not expected understanding, let alone forgiveness, from the likes of Severus Snape. Then again, maybe she was still anticipating what 38-year old Severus Snape from his original timeline might do. She supposed she didn’t give this man standing in front of her enough credit. She absolutely had no idea what to make of him.
 
He had changed drastically through the years, especially when she compared what he had been like at 22 originally. She had expected frown lines, a scowl fixed permanently to his face, to hear horror stories from his years teaching. Instead, the man had evidence of smiling. Regularly. There was a certain light in his eyes that adult Severus Snape had never had before. Of course, they were still in wartime. It wasn’t like he was a golden retriever - all smiles and not a single care in the world. There was a certain level of confidence and ease in him that had not been present originally. Aurelia had seen glimpses of this temperament before her departure. He was attractive, though Aurelia had always thought so. No longer abhorring a regular bathing schedule, the man's hair was silken. He had cut it, though it was still longer than most might wear it, and he could still easily tie it back. Swoops of dark locks cascaded over his features. His prominent nose, sharp jaw, and dark eyes made her weak.
 
She had waited for vitriol and quietly scathing rage. His actual reaction to her sudden appearance had shaken her. Severus Snape had been scared for her. He had feared for her safety. He had grieved her. What the hell was she supposed to do with that?
 
Aurelia had thought of him nearly every day. She didn’t count the period of time that she’d been encased in a fireball. She’d existed in a sort of stasis then. She couldn’t think of anything or anyone during that time, so she couldn’t very well count that in the number of days the man had surfaced in her thoughts. The days she was sentient? Awake? Aware? He had been present in most of her thoughts. He was the reason she’d kept going forward, the reason she hadn’t given up during her imprisonment. Seeing him again, seeing this undertaking through, were the only reasons she hadn’t offed herself in the aftermath of the Inferi attack. It was hard to not feel overwhelmingly hopeless after a failure like that one: a man had died, and she was certain she’d be left with everlasting nightmares of cold wet flesh clawing at her arms for the rest of her life. For what? A locket that she hadn’t even been able to destroy yet. 
 
She wasn’t about to use fiendfyre by herself, even if she had mainly stayed in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t ask Dumbledore for the sword of Gryffindor without raising suspicion, and she wasn’t even sure if the sword would work to destroy a Horcrux yet. It was not imbued with basilisk venom yet. The mythical serpent still slithered beneath the school. Presumably, it still had all of its teeth, another avenue blockaded. At this point she’d collected a total of three Horcruxes. The diadem she’d had in her possession since the second day of her arrival at Hogwarts. The room of requirement was much less cluttered than what she’d seen of it 20 years into the future. She’d located it with relative ease. The ring had been the next to acquire, and she hadn’t even gotten cursed by it. Crazy how one can avoid death by simply not donning very obviously cursed objects. Then there’d been the locket. 
 
She supposed she could consider Nagini to sort of be another Horcurx gathered, though the Maledictus wasn’t yet soul-bound to the Dark Lord yet. Her trip to Indonesia had actually been rather fun. Still dangerous, but fun nonetheless. Rather than waiting for Voldemort to lose his body and connect with the snake eventually, she’d located Nagini herself. Aurelia herself could not speak to snakes, and the great snake was well past her ability to speak to humans. 
 
With a stroke of genius, Lia had stolen a portrait of Salazar Slytherin himself. The old man had

not

been easy to work with, and was less than pleased at being removed from Hogwarts grounds in her seventh year. She’d at least had the foresight to develop a sort of camaraderie with the portrait during her few years at Hogwarts, but it had definitely been a fight to convince him to speak to the snake on Aurelia’s behalf. Contrary to what one might assume about Salazar, given his hate speech towards witches and wizards born in non magical households, the Hogwarts founder had never wanted to

wipe them out.

Voldemort sought to tear down much of what the founder had established during his life. He could at minimum get behind Aurelia’s hope to prevent the monster from further rising to power. She’d briefly traveled to the Americas in search of any potential descendants to doubly sway the portrait. That had worked too. A wonder what can happen when two squibs marry each other: the Salazar Slytherin bloodline was flourishing across the pond. So, without the fear of his line dying out completely, and the assurance that his legacy could be protected, he’d relented. He had been Aurelia’s least favorite traveling companion. Sure, he was helping her. He was still an egotistical racist, and she had hated relying on him. 
 
It had been a weird experience to say the least - holding up a portrait to a snake, hoping the man depicted within it wasn’t actually planning to get her killed. In the end, he’d stayed true to his word, much to Lia’s surprise. She’d been able to cart Nagini off to Kullu Valley where she was no doubt being doted on in the Naag Temple in which Aurelia had transferred her care.
 
The young witch had returned Salazar Slytherin’s portrait to its rightful place upon her return to Hogwarts. She’d had the man shrunken down in her bag for far longer than she’d anticipated. Truthfully, Aurelia thought she would have hunted down and destroyed all of the Horcruxes by her first year out of school. She’d been cocky, figuring she’d return to Severus in no time. Or that she’d be abducted by the Council as soon as the deed was done. She had begrudgingly sought Dumbledore out after looting the locket. She would unfortunately need the old man’s help in locating the remaining Horcruxes. Asking for his help would undoubtedly mean being indebted to the headmaster. She very much understood what Severus Snape the Original must have felt in owing the wizard. Aurelia had avoided this particular avenue for as long as she could.
 
Returning was also necessary for the destruction of the Horcruxes she had actually managed to locate. Toting them around had become overwhelmingly taxing. She was agitated, angry. She would need access to this side of the wizarding world whether she decided to nick some basilisk venom from a vendor, or managed to take down the beast that roamed beneath the school. She would need to accomplish one of these tasks sooner rather than later. It was an added bonus that Severus would be near as well. 
 
Her appointment to the Dark Arts position would either mean she would be out of the school in a year’s time, or her plan to counter the curse would have to work. She wasn’t banking on the latter. So, her timeline would be exceptionally restricted to a single year. A single year to keep up with teaching, helping the Order, locating two more horcruxes (Hufflepuff’s Cup, and Tom Riddle’s diary), destroying

all

of the damned things, and hopefully killing Voldemort himself. Easy peasy. No problem.
 
She might have more confidence in her plan moving forward if she wasn’t regularly plagued by the memories of her shortcomings these past few years. She felt her hands were coated in the blood of Regulus Black. A stone landed in the pit of her stomach each time she remembered she had failed to save the young man. His face, so set with the determination to overcome the Dark Lord, burned in her mind; as did the look of desperation and utter fear that he’d had as he had been overtaken in those dark waters. Hands. Gripping. Tearing. Silent screams of horror and agony.
 
She blinked.
 
Gods. How long had she been sitting here?
 
Severus had retreated behind his desk. He was shuffling through papers that lay on the dark wood. He looked up, feeling her eyes on him. When had he moved?
 
“Sorry. I was… somewhere else,” she managed to say.
 
Merlin, did it feel weird to talk. When she’d articulated her journey earlier, she thought she’d lose her voice; it had been so underutilized these years she was astonished she could go that long without her throat going raw. 
 
“No matter,” Severus responded.
 
“I, um, better leave you to it. I still need to unpack, get settled. There’s more - to tell you, I mean. I just don’t think it’ll make sense if I keep going right now.”
 
He inclined his head, and she left his office. 
 
It wasn’t until she was a few corridors away that she fully acknowledged the lump in her throat that had been threatening to toss her over the edge for some time now. She swallowed hard against it, knowing it would not be the last time she felt like crying. No, she felt that nearly all the time these days. Letting loose those sobs in Severus’ office had been the most she’d let herself feel it all; the loss, the disappointment, the fear, the confusion she’d been hiding from for months, years. His office was the first place she’d felt truly safe to do so, despite the rift between them. 
 
Navigating the castle was easier than she’d anticipated after the time away. She would be staying in the Astronomy wing, where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had been held during her time here as well. Aurelia had yet to investigate her living quarters, opting to stalk Severus before she did much of anything else. She was delighted to find a rather cozy chamber off of her office, fit with sleeping arrangements, a kitchen, and private bath. It was far from luxurious, but she had the feeling she could make it home. For now.
 
Much like the books lining the walls of Severus’ office, Aurelia’s chambers were packed to the brim. Hers however, contained a good chunk of her music collection. Of course, she’d had access to more modern gadgets from her own time period, but the firedrake had always enjoyed her hard copies best. CDs, records, and tapes covered an entire wall. The rest were adorned with movie posters, pictures of bands, a mishmash of taxidermied moths and magical creatures, and plants. 
 
Content with her living arrangements, she settled onto the comfortable sofa that faced the fireplace in her common area. She tossed her head back, relishing what it was to be seated, and done with her tasks for the time being. Students wouldn’t be back for a few days. She would need to lesson plan, but that could wait. Sleep overcame her, a feat she had not managed so well as of late. It was blissfully dreamless.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

She was woken rather suddenly by a knocking on her office door. Her head snapped up at the noise, cricking her neck. However long she’d been positioned with her head laid on the back of the sofa was way too long. She gruffly stood up, making her way through her chambers to her office.  Wiping sleep from her eyes, she groggily opened the door. Minerva McGonagall stood in the frame. The witch seemed absolutely nonplussed to see Aurelia staring back at her, as though it had been Aurelia knocking on her door and not the other way around.  “Er- Professor?” Lia finally managed to get out. “Minerva will do. There is an Order meeting tonight. Here is the location. Read it and destroy the note afterwards. Albus figured it best you be told in person the first time. No sense scaring you silly with the sudden arrival of a patronus.” “Ah. Thank you, Minerva,” the name felt funny on her tongue. McGonagall was one of the few individuals Aurelia acknowledged was wholly worthy of her respect. Calling her by her first name indeed felt disrespectful. Lia regarded the note she’d been handed then: 68 C Regent Street, London. The paper was ash a moment later. She lifted her eyes to meet Minerva’s once again, raising her brows in question. The witch looked like she had something else to say. “Anything else I can help you with, then?” “I trust you’ll behave yourself this evening,” the deputy headmistress said, accusingly. “Hmm, if you mean behaving myself around the Potters and Black, I will if they will,” Aurelia hummed back. McGonagall tutted in response, “You know very well exactly how to get a rise out of them. This is not some schoolyard arena for you to put others in their places. This is serious business. I expect you to take it seriously .” “So, you do admit that I had been putting them in their places then,” Lia said with a grin. Realizing the older witch’s head might explode, she added: “I’ll be on my best behavior, Minerva. Swear it. I need things to go well for the Order just as much as anyone else.” Satisfied, McGonagall spun on her heel without another word.

Hmm. An Order meeting. Though Aurelia knew it was necessary to get involved as quickly as possible, she did not relish the thought of sitting in the same room as all four of the Marauders. She wondered whether Pettigrew’s blood curse had prevented him from rising in the ranks of the Dark Lord’s service. With any luck, she’d be in and out without an issue. She’d sworn to behave, and she would! Probably. Briefly, she considered whether she should change out of her traveling cloak and clothes. By the time she left for the meeting, she had indeed changed her attire. A snug-fitting sleeveless turtleneck and wide legged trousers had her instantly feeling more confident for the imminent reunion between herself and the former Gryffindors. She relished the air on her arms, showcasing the many tattoos she’d acquired in the last few years. Her outfit change absolutely had nothing to do with the possibility that Severus would likely be present. None at all.

Severus had arrived to their meeting point early as he always did. Of course, not so early he would be subjected to unnecessary small talk. Early enough he could secure appropriate seating. The phoenix patronus that had arrived a few hours after Aurelia’s departure had briefly startled the potions master. Try as he might, it had been difficult to acclimate to the sudden appearance of a bright white phoenix in his quarters. He had been deep in thought when the ghostly bird entered, startling him out of thoughts of Aurelia, and nearly making him ruin the blood replenishing potion he had been brewing. He’d been deeply troubled by her behavior in his office earlier. The tears were one thing, but seeing the once-ever-placid face of his friend slip into despair had been disconcerting. He had regretted informing her of just how much he cared about her as soon as the words “I thought you were dead,” left his mouth. It was, however, the truth. They’d established early on that lying would not be tolerated between the two of them. Secrecy was fine to a certain extent. He couldn’t very well expect her to divulge her secrets to him when he’d been hiding his affection for all these years. It didn’t mean he liked her secrecy. Far from it, he despised an unsolved puzzle. Even more so, this puzzle was harming her. Try as he might to maintain an air of dispassionate uncaring, he did care. Deeply. What exactly was he supposed to feel upon her return, her sudden rise from the dead? That’s what she’d been for the past two years: dead. At least in his mind she had been. What other explanation was there for her disappearance, the lack of information surrounding her existence? He’d seen glimpses into her clan, knew of their estrangement, and yet why had they not taken her in after seventh year? Rolling these questions around in his head, he failed to notice Aurelia’s arrival until she was seated across from him. Gods. The tattoos that littered her, those were new. Severus hadn’t realized how attractive two full arms decorated in ink could be until seeing hers on display. They were intricate, lacing up the length of her forearms, biceps, shoulders. There were whispers of them beneath her collar. The colors stood starkly against the white of her shirt, though he supposed that contrast was what she’d hoped for. Aurelia rarely did anything without intention. They were the same in many ways, that level of intent being one of them. He fixed his face into neutrality, the mask of his visage threatening to slip as he assessed the woman seated across from him. Her beauty was not something to easily be forgotten, he remembered it quite well, actually. She’d simply become more so. More Aurelia: fierce, stunning, a force to be reckoned with. He caught his lips turning up in a smile as he recalled her abhorrence for being reduced to the word ‘beautiful.’ Severus wondered if she realized she’d become all of the things she’d wanted to be described as. Beautiful didn’t come close to an accurate commentary on the witch before him. Frankly, calling her such would be an insult. She caught his subtle smile, returning it with her trademark arched brow and slight tug at the corner of her mouth. He secured his face again. They were far from being pals again. He could understand her situation to an extent, but he’d still been deeply hurt. Those feelings weren’t going to disappear just because the woman had smiled at him. He knew they would have to speak regularly, though he hoped to avoid the task as much as possible in the coming weeks. Returning to classes would be a welcome distraction. With any luck, he’d exit the meeting room without unnecessary conversation with her. “We have been informed of a potential attack on a Muggle bar this evening,” Dumbledore belted, ripping Severus out of his thoughts, “We will need those of you summoned here tonight to ensure casualties are at a minimum. You will be paired, as usual. Time is of the essence, my young friends. Remus, Lily you will be paired, as usual. James. Now is not the time to dispute separation from your wife in battle. Remus will take care of Lily, do you doubt that? James and Sirius, look out for each other, will you? Frank and Alastor. Severus and Aurelia. Make haste. Report back here in the aftermath. Kingsley will take your accounts.” The headmaster exited the room without another word. Severus could have kicked the old man in the shins. Dumbledore was well-aware of Aurelia, the lengths Severus went to find the woman. Why would he pair them together for her first battle with the Order? He spared a glance at her, balking as he realized her eyes were transfixed on him. He stood, exiting the room without a glance to see if she’d follow him. Let her do the chasing now. He’d done two years of it.  “See you on the field, battle buddy,” she said with a grin before disappearing with a crack.  He followed shortly behind, shaking his head before apparating himself.   Oh good. Severus absolutely hates me. Aurelia thought to herself in-between apparitions. The squeezing all around her did nothing in comparison to the constriction she felt around her heart at the look of utter disinterest he’d flashed her from across the meeting table. She’d been wary of Sirius Black, and the Potters. She hadn’t expected the somewhat warm welcome she’d gotten from them. There was apprehension on both sides, but they’d all been cordial if not nice. She had imagined that to be the biggest of hurdles for her to glide over during this meeting, not the deathly glare of Severus Snape to hit her like a punch to the gut. Peter Pettigrew was suspiciously absent from the meeting. None of the group even mentioned the little rat. Aurelia didn’t know if she should be elated about this development, or nervous. Thoughts of the pudgy man were quickly pushed to the back of her mind when Dumbledore had given them their assignments. Of course she’d be coupled with Severus. The headmaster was surely a sadist, delighting in their suffering. She’d charmed her shirt a different color before heading to the battlegrounds. Really, what other word was there for the location they’d been instructed to appear at? That’s what they were doing: battling. White was not fitting for the task at hand. Black would do nicely. Her arms were still free, colors spreading as she flexed her wand arm ahead of her. Alice Longbottom had been nice enough to inform her ahead of time that tasks like this prioritized the salvation of non magical folks, by any means necessary apparently. Aurelia didn’t enjoy killing. She saw it as the quickest way to win. Maybe that was callous. She could live with being considered uncaring, hard-hearted if it meant others wouldn’t have to suffer.  Could she use the power of the Drake for these sorts of excursions? Sure, but she preferred to use magic that was predictable in times like these, especially since she was new to the Order. How might the wizards around her react to her floating, flame-covered body? Likely not well.  She popped headphones on, rolling her neck as she waited for her battle buddy. She smiled at the thought. Severus Snape had to hate the term. No one would willingly refer to that despondent man as a buddy. As he appeared, she slipped an earpiece off of one ear, to better hear him. She could feel the song pumping against her head. She gestured for him to lead the way. Aurelia would be following his lead for this one.  He grabbed her hand, apparating them further into their targeted location. He spun her so they were back to back, wands at the ready. They became a single being amongst the chaos they’d entered. Fires had sprouted already, muggles screamed, the noises muffled against the foam at her ear. She still kept one free in case she needed to speak to Severus. “Oooh this is a good one,” she said, slipping the headphones off of her own ears, placing them on her companion’s. She hummed the tune to herself, one she’d memorized at this point. She cast in time with the music that was no doubt blaring in her friend’s ears. They spun in battle, each overtly aware of the other’s movements without even recognizing it. Severus blasted a Death Eater with a curse that split the man in two. Ouch. The masked figure still tried to speak, gore slipping out of him with his face and body ripped in half. Aurelia followed suit, causing a swiftly-approaching enemy to burst into flames, screams tearing through the night.  It continued that way for what seemed like an eternity. This CD in particular was one Aurelia knew by heart. The two of them were dancing with their backs pressed against each other, easily taking down the threats around them. When the last Death Eater was incapacitated, disarmed and legless, Aurelia removed the headphones from her friend’s head. He regarded her briefly as her hands lightly brushed the sides of his face, then he turned and apparated away. So talkative.

Sick Beats for Beating the Shit Outta Death Eaters

Pink Pony Club - Chappell Roan
I’m Not Okay (I Promise) - My Chemical Romance
Pa Pa Power - Dead Man’s Bones
Case 143 - Stray Kids
Burn Your Village - Kiki Rockwell
All For Us - Labrinth, Zendaya

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Severus had hated her for it, the casual way she crept into his being. Where did she get off? No matter that they’d fought effortlessly beside one another; he wanted to be mad, dammit. Couldn’t she grant him that much? No. She’d had to insert herself that much further into the crevices of his heart.

Perhaps she’s been through enough,

his traitorous mind thought. Perhaps she had good enough reasons, perhaps she’d been through enough to more than make up for her disappearance. Severus was stubborn, though. Forgiveness did not come naturally to the man. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, with two notions warring inside of himself. 
 
He’d run away as soon as he was able. When the battle was done, their opponents reduced to charred flesh and piles of gore, he’d fled. He couldn’t stand to have her watchful eyes rove over him. He’d apparated to Hogsmeade after checking in with Kingsley, making his way to the Hog’s Head for a much-needed, stiff drink.
 
The grungy hole in the wall had become a regular sanctuary for Severus in the time he’d taken up his position as a professor at Hogwarts. Rarely did he meet another patron he knew. Tonight was his unlucky night, it seemed. Lily Potter was waiting for him at the deserted bar. Merlin, save him from these dreaded witches. Severus briefly glanced around the nearly-empty bar. Not even the bartender was present. He reached over the bartop, procuring his drink of choice, Red Currant Rum, clearly ignoring Lily’s presence until he’d downed at least a few ounces of the dark liquid.
 
“Can’t say that’s the most pleasant ‘hello’ I’ve ever gotten, but I suppose it is a greeting that’s entirely Severus Snape,” Lily said as he downed another. 
 
“No Mr. Potter in tow this evening?” was all he said in reply.
 
“James is home with Harry. I told him I needed a bit,” Lily answered. 
 
Severus turned away to stalk towards one of the many empty booths. Unsurprisingly, Lily followed.
 
“How did you fare at the battle?” she asked.
 
He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head in disbelief at her question. 
 
“Right. Obviously you’re fine. How did it go partnered with Aurelia? She’s been gone an awfully long time, hasn't she?”
 
“Nearly four years,” Severus offered.
 
“And the two of you are…”

The non question hung in the air. Aurelia was nothing to Severus. She certainly wasn’t his. Yet, Aurelia was everything to him. She was his friend, still. Wasn’t she? How was one supposed to summarize such a relationship to someone that simply wouldn’t understand?
 
“My Mrs. Potter, are you perhaps jealous?” he asked, roguishly,  in lieu of answering a question he himself didn’t know the response to.
 
Lily flushed. Of course she was. Her hand slid to his knee. Could the evening get more confusing?
 
The door to the Hog’s Head opened just then. Aurelia walked in with a long-haired man - Sirius Black. Indeed, the evening

could

get more confusing. The pair were laughing boisterously with one another as they made their way through the doorway, oblivious to Severus sitting in the corner, Lily Potter’s hand mere inches from his groin.
 
“--had to have noticed his bollocks were missing at least?”
 
“Nope. Just kept shooting mediocre stunners. I swear, I didn’t know what to make of it.”
 
Severus clenched his jaw at the sight of Black’s hand resting on Aurelia’s lower back.

What was she doing laughing with him?

“Is Abe even here?” Aurelia asked aloud, turning to take in the emptiness of the bar. Her eyes grew wide as they reached Severus seated so closely to Lily, “Ah. Abe might not be, but I suppose we’ve got an amateur bartender serving - what even is this? Rum?” she said striding over to their booth. 
 
She conjured glasses for herself and Sirius, plopping down on a seat positioned across from Lily. Sirius followed suit, though it was clear he was uncomfortable with the present company. 
 
“Severus. Lils,” he said, seating himself across from Severus.
 
“‘Kay

that’s

weird. I don’t think I’ve ever heard one of you say his actual first name,” Lia noted.
 
“Circumstances change, Aurelia. In fact, much can change in the span of four years, during war no less,” Severus retorted.
 
“Icy.”
 
“Should we go to the Three Broomsticks?” Sirius offered under his breath, “I’m still dying to learn the details of such magnificent artwork. The tattoos too,” the latter he said conspiratorially whispering into her ear. Severus fought to control himself.
 
Aurelia lightly chuckled, and a pang went through Severus.

“Present company doesn’t seem inclined to share their booze, and it looks like Abe is away for now. Three Broomsticks it is,” Lia complied. She vanished the drinks she'd summoned for herself and Sirius.
 
She shot Severus a wink before departing on the arm of Sirius Black. Lily’s hand hadn’t left his thigh the entire exchange, and slowly inched further up as the intruders exited. His mind was so fixated on the relations that could unfold between Aurelia and Black that he had barely registered the woman's licentious fondling until she made to undo his trousers. He caught her wrist in his hand.
 
“Control yourself, witch.”
 
He got up abruptly, downing another ounce of rum before slamming a galleon and some change on the bartop. In a flurry of black robes, he left Lily Potter to tend to herself. 
 
It was a cool evening for the start of September, and he was glad for the weight of the robes on him as he began his ascent to the castle grounds. He desperately needed to clear his head. Such a task could hardly be accomplished with Lily clinging to him. He took a long breath in, savoring the night air.
Surprisingly, he caught a glimpse of another lone figure making the same journey. Quickly, his long legs caught up to his target. This company would no doubt make his head even foggier, but he had to admit he would rather be confused in her company than clear-headed in Lily's
 
“I’d have thought you and Black would still be making fools of yourselves for the patrons of the Three Broomsticks.”
 
“Oh. They’re closed. Apparently no one’s open later than the Hog’s Head. Clientele there kinda demand it. I told him we’d catch up another time.”
 
They were silent for a time, steps falling in line with one another. The road crunching under their footfalls the only sound echoing in the night. That was, until Lia stopped suddenly. Severus made it a few more paces before realizing she’d stopped completely. Her arms were crossed against her chest. She stood as though waiting for something. He backtracked, giving her an inquiring look.
 
“Go on. Your little legs will take you up to the castle in no time. I’ll wait. That way we don’t have to talk to each other.”
 
“What on earth are you on about?” Severus demanded.
 
“I’d much rather walk alone in silence all the way back up to the grounds. It’s lots better than the pointed silence of your company, Sev.”
 
“Were you planning to shag Black?” he asked seemingly against his will. Where did

that

come from?
 
She laughed. He scowled.
 
“Sirius? He wishes. Why, jealous?”
 
He remained silent.
 
“Speaking of shagging, how long have the two of you been hooking up without James knowing?”
 
“Only once.”
 
“And under-the-table hand jobs don’t count within ‘that one time’?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.
 
“She’s never tried that before tonight.”
 
“Sure.”
 
“And you?”
 
“Severus Snape, are you asking me about my sexual history after being a complete dick to me for the entire evening?”
 
His jaw dropped.
 
“N-No, of course not!” He was.
 
“Listen, I get that you have questions. I even get you being pissed at me, believe it or not. But I’m tired. Today is the first day in almost four years I haven’t been on the run, hungry, or have been able to shower. Can we just,” she gestured to the path up to the grounds, "without you being an ass?”
 
He inclined his head.
 
“Perfect,” they began walking in unison again, “What’d you think of that battle mix? Pretty sick, right?”
 
He couldn’t help but smile slightly. They were far from back to normal, it’d only been a day after all. They were, however, much closer to it than Severus had thought would be possible in such a short time. At least she hadn’t slept with Sirius Black.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The weeks following their first battle together seemed to re-solidify the friendship Severus and Aurelia had developed during their time as students themselves. Curiously, Dumbledore had not announced her as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor during the welcome feast. He’d cryptically stated she would be teaching practical defensive and offensive magic. There technically was not a Defense Against the Dark Arts position this year. Perhaps she’d outlast the curse. Their walk back up to the castle those weeks ago had eased the anger Severus had felt. Talking with the firedrake was enough. Having her here was enough. He could live with the continued secrecy. Couldn’t he? She’d divulged more of her story, a welcome surprise, though she was clearly working alongside Albus Dumbledore for some unknown mission. He’d filled her in with the details of his own adventures: becoming a potions master, working with the Order, learning basic healing techniques. They’d taken to grading alongside one another in the evenings, Lia consistently offering up a new band or album for them to listen to each time. Weekends were spent together at school, or together working for the Order. Aurelia kept mostly to small battles and behind-the-scenes work: planning and scheming. She was entirely too good at the job.  James Potter had become a consistent thorn in not only Severus’ side, but Aurelia's too. The man held such a level of distaste for dark spellcasting, despite spells of their nature very regularly saving his ass.  “It’s not right. We should be fighting to disarm, and incapacitate. We shouldn’t be casting exploding curses.”  “Uh James, your take would hold like way more weight if we A) had a place to put all of these incapacitated Death Eaters, and B) if we didn’t have to worry about them tossing killing curses at us in-between apparating their downed friends out to fight another day afterwards,” Lia had responded. James was not alone in his discomfort with the Dark Arts, though that was nothing new for Severus. Lia had taken to simply rolling her eyes each time Potter brought up his concerns nowadays. It wasn’t worth the debate. The Order was holding the line substantially better now that Aurelia was fighting. It would take an idiot to overlook her efforts simply because they classified as dark magic. Though, he supposed James Potter was a bit of an idiot. Despite Potter's protestations, all seemed to be going well. Until Aurelia disappeared. Again.

Aurelia had been prepared to take her time reacquainting herself with Severus. After all, they’d been friends for only two and a half years, and she’d spent the last four completely out of his life. He meant the world to her, though she never demanded that in return. She’d expected there to be some resentment, and absolutely some effort on her part to win back his trust. She hadn’t thought she would slip easily back into his life, yet he’d let her.  She delighted in the evenings spent by his side, the two of them lost in music and magic. She’d gone out on a limb in asking him whether he had basilisk venom in his stores. The horcruxes had been relentless, grating on her senses and psyche, whispering to her in her nightmares. She’d been desperate for their destruction. When he’d told her it was a controlled substance, she’d made the rash decision to plunge into the bowels of the school. She’d given Dumbledore just enough information, as had been her practice since arriving all those years ago. Really, she hadn’t even been sorted officially. He absolutely didn’t know she was a firedrake, merely that she required moonlit walks from time to time. Certainly, he probably knew more. He always did, didn’t he? She just hadn’t willingly revealed very much to the old wizard.  Fighting a basilisk is no easy feat, even for a dragon. Petrification was still a very real concern for Aurelia. She’d stolen the sword of Gryffindor, obviously. Though, come to think of it, Albus had probably allowed her to steal the sword. Part of her had grown excited at the prospect of killing such a beast in such a way. Armed with a sword, her wand, a blindfold, and a handful of smoke bombs, she stood in front of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. “A twelve year old could do it. I definitely can, right?” She whispered a phrase she’d heard Salazar utter to Nagini, hoping for the best. At first, nothing had happened. Suddenly, the ground shook. The sink in front of her receded, revealing a tunnel. “Mother of fuck, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said to herself as she assessed the gaping mouth of darkness that opened before her.  She jumped, plummeting downward, before she lost her resolve. This part of the memories had been positively glossed over. She’d be having words with Lachesis when she saw him again. For an all-knowing organization, they really had some kinks to work out in their system. This place was rank. As somewhat of a serpent herself, she wasn’t sickened by the folds of shedded skin. No, there were worse things in the underground dwellings of the basilisk. The sheer amount of carcasses and the smell of rot that permeated the air was enough to cause her to heave. “ Deprenhendere vitae ,” she whispered, waiting for the telltale glow to warn her of the beast’s location. There was a faint shimmer further into the passage, behind thick stone. She had a ways to go before she’d need to don her blindfold.  She cast protections around herself: ones to silence her footfalls, to rid her of her scent, to make herself less visible. Her invisibility cloak wouldn’t help her in a fight. She’d feared the constraints of it. The closer she got to the glowing outline of the mythical creature she’d set out to kill, the more she felt how absolutely fucking stupid it was for her to be down here. Her hands became slick from sweat, her breath picked up. This sort of fear was new for her. Few times in her life had she been faced with an opponent she wasn’t certain she could take on. She hadn’t even been afraid in the moments before the inferi attacked. She’d been determined. Certain of the outcome. Here? Not so much. She stopped to steady her breathing, before tying the cloth around her eyes. Through the blindfold, she could see the still glowing outline of Salazar’s monster. She hadn’t really thought much farther than this. Should she levitate herself? Drop from the ceiling, and impale the beast? Step right up to it and slice its face?  The serpent wasn’t moving. Perhaps it was asleep and she could impale it with the sword from afar. Oh. Actually, not an option. It was moving now. Quickly. She dug into her pockets as she backpedaled, releasing the catalog of smoke bombs she’d acquired from Zonkos. She had, unfortunately, lost her footing during her efforts. She scrambled backwards, kicking up rocks and bones in her wake. Once she could stand, she ran. Running had never been her strong suit. She could fight. She was strong. She much preferred other forms of exercise. Right now, though? She really wished she’d run more often before this. She ignored the thundering of her heart, and the deafening noise of debris ricocheting off of the passage walls. She couldn’t see a damn thing, but neither could the basilisk. She felt along the stone until she felt it give way to an opening. There, she caught her breath. She would have to outsmart the creature. This ridiculously old, gigantic, petrifying snake. No problem.  She could hear Salazar’s beast gaining on her, its muscled body rustling the rubble beneath it. She inhaled, nearly choking on the smell that continued to assault her senses, and accessed the Drake. Suddenly, her body was alight. The blindfold reduced to ash. She closed her eyes at the lack of protection, bare to the creature that pursued her.  Then she allowed herself to burn. Willing herself to grow brighter and hotter than she ever had, she ducked out of the alcove, and ran straight at the basilisk. Her wings carried her as she sailed towards the creature, her talons grazed scales. She smelled burning flesh as an otherworldly roar filled the tunnels. Using the beast’s cries, she located its head. Sword in hand, praying it wouldn’t melt beneath her touch, she lunged. Her eyes were still clamped shut as she rose from the ground, hilt clasped in both hands, she raised the relic above her head, and she swung with all her might. Metal connected with flesh as she drove the blade into what she hoped was the bastard’s skull. Its tail connected with her, sending her flying into a tunnel wall. She felt the stone give way, and heard a sickening crunch deep within her before she lost consciousness.  She awoke some time later. Days later, actually. Bruised from head to toe, ribs crushed, she opened her eyes to find that she had not died. Briefly, she wondered if a dead basilisk could still petrify her should its eyes still be open upon its death. She realized she didn’t care at that point.  The serpent spanned almost twenty feet long. The thick, muscled creature lay a few paces from where Aurelia had fallen. The sword of Gryffindor stuck directly out of its skull. It would have been comical had the sight not been so horrifying. She crawled over to its remains, still stunned she’d survived thus far. The screaming in her lungs made her question whether her journey would be cut short before she could actually use the beast’s teeth. She wrenched a few of them away from its gaping mouth, careful to avoid nicking herself. She’d had to take several breaks, wincing at the effort. She kicked its corpse before departing with her loot. Getting into the tunnels had been easy enough. There was a slide of all things that lead into the depths of hell. Getting out was a bit trickier. Had she been capable of raising her arms above her head, she might have attempted a spell to propel herself upwards. As it was, she could barely perform the wand movements required to cast a patronus to send for help.  Thirty minutes later Filius Flitwick was yelling down to her. “Miss Drake? I- I have that broom you asked for. I must say I don’t feel comfortable staying in the girls’ bathroom like this.” “Accio cleansweep,” Aurelia wheezed. Miraculously, it worked. The broom launched into her outstretched hand, causing another bolt of shooting pain to pass through her. She held on tight as it took her skyward. The Charms professor greeted her with wide eyes. She likely looked, and smelled, terrible. She'd been sitting in basilisk shit for days. “Many thanks, Filius,” she said in barely a whisper. Filius Flitwick was no stranger to eccentric behavior, odd tasks, or peculiar tastes for adventure. He was the only person he could think to summon that would grant her request without question. At least without too many questions.  “I think I’ll visit Poppy,” she said with a salute, as means to avoid whatever questions he did have. Opting to ride the broom all the way to the hospital wing, she flew through the stone corridors of the castle. By pure luck, she’d exited on a Hogsmeade weekend and the halls were all but deserted. She had spent the following days in the hospital wing, despite her protests. When she was finally cleared, she made her way to her chambers, intent on destroying the few Horcruxes she’d collected. In a few short days, she’d spoken parseltongue, killed a basilisk, imbued the sword of Gryffindor with the power to destroy more Horcruxes, and successfully rid the world of three pieces of Voldemort’s soul. Not to mention the venom she’d been able to collect for Severus, and the fangs she’d have for future endeavors. She allowed a sense of pride to wash over her, before collapsing into another dreamless sleep.    Severus had been livid at her disappearance. Leaving without so much as a word. He'd been suspicious when she'd inquired about basilisk venom, though he hadn't thought she'd be stupid enough to use the stuff, let alone go out and find her own. Days later, she'd sauntered into his office, dropping vials and vials of the stuff onto his desk. She'd left without saying a thing, not even sparing him a backwards glance. She was lighter, though. That much he could tell right away by the flicker in her eyes, and the disappearance of the dark circles under her eyes. Damnable witch.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The term unfolded quickly in front of them, weeks passing by in a blur of teaching, Order meetings, and reacquainting themselves with one another. More secure in their friendship than he had been weeks prior, Severus dared to inquire after Aurelia’s relationship with Sirius Black.
 
“You and Black seemed rather intimate that night in Hogsmeade,” he’d stated. They'd been lounging quietly in her chambers. Music quietly played behind them as they graded.
 
Lia didn’t even bother to look up from the parchment in front of her, “He’s a flirt, that’s for sure.”
 
“Nothing… happened between the two of you?”
 
She looked at him then. Her eyebrows knit together. It often seemed she was capable of moving only her eyebrows with how neutral her face remained the majority of the time.
 
“Sev, I was freshly back from being on the run and my best friend wasn’t speaking to me. Kira and Starling were hardly available for a chat with such short notice. I certainly wasn’t about to turn down a free drink. Besides, Sirius was able to fill me in with what I’ve missed.”
 
“Does he know of his brother’s fate?”
 
Her face drained of color, and Severus immediately wished he hadn’t brought the subject up.
 
“No. Not yet. I don’t want anyone to know until I’ve tied up loose ends.”
 
He released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. She wasn’t friends with Black. She certainly wasn't shagging him. He was a means to an end. Companionship.
 
Holiday break arrived, but rather than finding rest and relaxation, Severus found himself more wound up than ever. It was quickly becoming more and more difficult to keep his feelings in check around the firedrake. Evenings spent alone but for her company were drastically different from what they’d been in their adolescence. No longer were they compelled to spend time in public areas like common rooms and the library. The moon would rise slowly over the grounds, and the pair would flock to their private chambers together. 
 
Professionalism was futile behind those closed doors, not that Aurelia was particularly professional. She’d taken to changing out of her robes each night, much preferring the comfort of Muggle leisurewear. Her evening attire itself was innocuous as long as they retreated to the dungeons, where she was forced to don sweatshirts and comfortable pants due to the cold. Her rooms in the Astronomy Tower posed a different sort of threat, as she favored tank tops or shorts, leaving a tantalizing swatch of skin exposed. He longed to feel the softness of it beneath his touch.
 
She had reverted to her former positioning from their study sessions as students: using his lap as a footrest. At the very least, she maintained contact in some way: her arm brushed gently against his, leaning her head on his shoulder  - something he had often playfully huffed at back at school. He’d naturally savored the contact then, and continued to now. Severus simply cared more deeply for the witch now than he’d been capable of in his youth, making every touch a devastating punishment. His desire for her had changed. He craved her body, yes, but he wanted to devour her mind, consume her soul, take every bit of herself that she would let him have. 
 
On more than one occasion, he’d had to abruptly leave her to avoid the embarrassment of his evident arousal. Her eyes had widened in confusion as he stood suddenly. Her feet had flopped onto the soft sofa as he tossed lame excuses over his shoulder. Severus had immediately relocated to his own chambers, futilely attempting to ignore the strain against his trousers. Their meetings after these incidents were peppered with raised brows, her only inquisition. It seemed she really was oblivious to his affection for her. 
 
A few days into their holiday stay at Hogwarts, Severus and Aurelia found themselves holed up in his chambers, sharing a bottle of firewhiskey to stave off the hellish week they’d endured. Many students had gone home for break, favoring the companionship of family to the stone walls of the castle. Many more than usual had remained, not having families or safe homes to return to. Death Eater attacks had become more prevalent, with increasingly more organization. So, they drank.  
 His private chambers were similar to that of his office: lined with books, dark. He'd found a fondness for plant life that could be sustained with little light. His windowed views were taken up by the Black lake, not making a prolific environment for many species. Still, his walls were lined with greenery and his fireplace roared warmly as they basked in its blaze. 
Aurelia was sharing a story from her youth, the embarrassment of her first flight, and was getting up to mime the next few segments of the story when her foot caught on the ornate rug beneath her feet. Severus leapt into action, catching her before she fell. He flushed at the placement of his hands, one braced on her waist, the other wrapped around her upper back. He'd never been this close to her, this intimate with her.
 
She straightened, tossing him a lopsided smile. Still locked in an embrace, what she did next left Severus stupefied. She calmly threaded her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek. He stood rigidly in place; uncertain of himself, but also too afraid to move, lest she finally decide that the proximity was too close. Much to his surprise, she lingered. Her fingers played at the nape of his neck. As she did, he began to relax. His hand fit more confidently at her waist. She lifted her head just a bit to chuckle darkly into his ear, her quiet breath cascading over him. He fought back a shiver. She pulled back, looking deeply into his eyes. 
 
Peculiar. 
 
Her eyes, normally a storm of colors, were simply a deep gray. The gold around the pupil still intact, but otherwise lacking the color he was used to. In an instant he was seeing flashes of memories. They were not, however, his own. 
 
From her perspective he saw so many of their encounters since she’d arrived back at Hogwarts. Late nights doing rounds, debriefing with one another after Order meetings, her first day back: when he’d cornered her. These memories alone would have been enough to startle him. The fire within her normally provided enough of a barrier that even the most skilled Legillimens (which he considered himself to be) would be burned out of her head. He hadn’t even performed the spell that would allow him such access. As though that wasn’t enough, he could see the memories reshaping themselves. The outlines were somewhat blurred due to the inaccuracy of the additions that had been made. 
 
She was - she had been - envisioning other embraces similar to the one they currently found themselves, but ventured to explore more. As though from afar, he saw his hands raking over her. One of Lia's hands clasped to his chest, pulling him closer, the other twined his hair. Their mouths interlocked. Heat. Need. Longing… for him. 
 
He was pulled back to the present, realizing barely any time had passed. The witch was lazily gazing into his eyes, seemingly oblivious to the sights he'd seen. She inhaled, looking as though she was about to say something, when she started. Her eyes went wide and she pulled back. Their bodies no longer together, Severus felt the distinct lack of warmth. 
 
“Oh

SHIT,

” she exclaimed, pulling back. “I — uh have to go,” her brows were knitted together, “Potion side effects I think. Should

not

have had that firewhiskey.”
 
“Potion?” Was all Severus could say in return. 
 
She had already begun making her way towards the door. Visibly shaking herself, she said “A transfiguration potion. It helps control the shift. I don’t need to go into the woods to explode anymore," she chortled, "Still, some of the after effects are less than desirable. Clumsiness for one, apparently if it’s mixed with half a bottle of liquor.”
 
And she was gone. Severus found himself standing with his arms outstretched, the ghost of their embrace.
 Side effects? He slowly walked to his study, still reeling from their encounter. It must be some kind of transfiguration potion. He sifted through texts. Ah. Animagi Preventus: used to prevent an animagus from shifting short-term. Side effects include: nausea, headaches, dizziness, fatigue. DO NOT CONSUME WITH ALCOHOL, the warning screamed on the page. He supposed she was close enough to an animagus for the brew to be effective. Could he have misinterpreted everything? Had he made those images up himself? He shook his head to clear it. 
Unsuccessfully, the potions master attempted to grade papers. Still work to be done, even during the holidays. Despite the stack of parchment in front of him, he stared instead at the fire, transfixed as he recalled the flashes he’d seen in his mind. He took several breaths, making more than a few attempts to refocus his mind. It was fruitless. Finally, he decided to go to bed, hoping the sweet pull of sleep would jerk him out of his thoughts. Without so much as undressing, he laid down on his mattress. He closed his eyes, willing his mind into blankness.

A flash of their lips on one another’s. Her longing desire palpably settled as a tug behind her bellybutton. Her legs wrapped around him, his hips settled right between

— he sat upright.

She’s your friend

he scolded himself, sighing back onto his mattress.

She pulled him closer, quietly moaning into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, standing up. It wasn’t as though he’d never thought of her that way. He had. Many, many times. This was different from simply wanting her, as he had in his youth. He was no longer palming himself fervently behind the drapes of his canopied bed in the dorms at the memory of her nakedness in the forest. Seeing her desire, feeling it directed towards him from her point of view was certainly different from the dull-in-comparison versions of their bodies rocking together that he thought up while roughly rubbing one out in the shower. Even then he’d felt incredibly guilty after the fact.  
A shower was, however, a good idea. A cold one would suffice, give him some much-needed clarity. It would shock him out of his reverie, surely.
 
He started to strip, attempting to ignore the very clear evidence that Aurelia was still on his mind, throbbing at his waist. He took a deep breath, looking in the mirror he muttered “Pull it together” at his reflection. 
 
The icy stream he stepped into was jarring, yes. It certainly was not enough to push away her twisted memories every time he closed his eyes against the stream.

Were they her memories?

These thoughts only bled into a mixture of his own fantasies quickly dampening his resolve and making his hardness near unbearable to ignore. 
 
He stroked himself, envisioning her soft, moaning breath cascading into him as he caressed the peak of her breast with the pad of his thumb. He would tease her, and she would melt under his touch. He pictured the fiery witch on her knees in front of him, mouth quirked in her usual smirk, as she gazed up at him. Her turn to tease, her velvet-soft tongue would trail his length, ever so slowly she would circle the head of his cock. His strokes came more quickly now, breathing ragged as his own imagery melded with hers to create the perfect map to his climax. 
 
“

FUCK,”

he barked when he had finally hit his peak. He leaned his head against the shower tiles, cock still clenched in his hand throbbing as he came down from his high.

So much for a cold shower helping

he thought to himself, groggily motioning through the remainder of his showering routine. 
 
As he toweled off. A few moments later, he heard knocking at his private entrance. He wrapped the towel around himself, tied his wet hair back, save for the few strands that broke free, and padded to his door. 
 
Aurelia stood in the frame.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

How could I be so stupid

she thought as she exited the potions master’s living quarters. She had almost

kissed

him. Well… she had almost done

a lot more

than kissing. She was winding her way back to her own quarters still shaking off the after effects of embarrassment she felt at nearly coming onto her best friend. More than that, he deserved to know

everything

before she even thought about pursuing him romantically. There were so many secrets about her, about her life, about

him

even, that he wasn’t privy to.
 
She had of course felt this pang for Severus for years now. She liked them broody, and broody was what he did best. He was damn handsome, a fact she found glaringly obvious even from his emo faze in young adulthood.
 
Now, though he was a far cry from that adorably cute boy with painted fingernails she’d had feelings for in 7th year… 6th year. FINE. 5th year. Knowing what compassion he was capable of for all of these years had only made her longing more difficult to ignore, how was she supposed to create a relationship with him and completely forget the selflessness he’d shown in his time as a spy? He was a good man. He was a hero. Or he would have been. And now? He was a contemplative, dark, solid, tower of a man with an IQ off the charts, and a sense of humor so dry it put the Sahara to shame. It made her toes curl just thinking about him. He wasn’t even forced into the Order now, and yet he felt compelled to fight.

He is never going to buy that sorry excuse for an exit after that show you gave him

she thought to herself. The transfiguration potion she consumed

did

have side effects, that

did

tend to clash with alcohol, but nothing that would have so easily explained her sudden need to ride him like a horse after just one touch.

His touch

she thought, still shivering at the memory of it all, feeling a tugging sensation below her belly button. It had sent a shockwave through her when she’d finally realized he’d had his hand on her waist, the other wrapping firmly around her back to prevent her fall. That’s where she’d lost the plot. 
 
She rummaged through the drawers of her nightstand until finally brandishing the object she was looking for, only to let out a deep sigh of frustration. 
 
“Yes, because even vibrators don’t work at Hogwarts.” She flopped onto her bed. 
 
Just as she had just resolved to call it a night, a Phoenix sauntered into her rooms, or rather a patronus taking form as a phoenix. 
 
Dumbledore’s voice rumbled then “Miss Drake, you and Severus are needed. Inform him, then meet me at the place where it’s hidden.”
 
“And trust Dumbledore to cockblock just as hard,” she muttered when the patronus had disappeared. 
 
Her anxiety rose the closer she got to the dungeons. She had just been hoping to give Sev some space these next few days so she could cool off, and both of them could forget all of this had happened. What was he going to do when he opened the door to see her standing there not 40 minutes after she’d left?
 
Hesitantly, she knocked. She could hear slow shuffling behind the door, and the sound of fabric rustling against skin.
 
She stood in shock for a moment taking in the sight that greeted her as the door finally swung open. There was Severus, clad in nothing but a towel at his waist, hair still wet but pulled back, water trickling down the sculpted muscles she hadn’t known he possessed. She watched one water droplet trail down, down, down…
 
“You’re back?” He asked, snapping her back to reality. 
 
“D-uh Dumbledore has requested us,” she stuttered. 
 
“Right. Let’s go,” he made to follow her out.
 
“Sev, I don’t think Dumbledore summoned us for a strip tease. Unless you know something I don’t,” she replied, raking her eyes over him. He looked just about as flustered as she felt.
 
After a quick glance down at himself, his ears turning the lightest shade of pink, he stepped back within the confines of his rooms, headed towards what she could only assume was his bedroom. He made to close the door, but in his haste, left the door only slightly ajar.
 
Aurelia hadn’t noticed the crack in the doorframe, hadn’t even looked in that direction at first, until she heard a distinctive slap as his damp towel hit the ground. She turned her attention towards the door instinctively, and was met with a view of his perfectly sculpted back, and lower…
 
NOT
that she was staring. It wasn’t intentional! She averted her eyes, fully turning so her back was to his door to abate any lingering desire to take a peak. She only turned after he cleared his throat behind her.
 
Their walk to the edge of the grounds was silent, not a word passing between them. At the apparition point she turned to him.
 
“Do you want me to… or would you prefer?” she trailed off.
 
His only response was to offer her his hand. She grabbed it, and he pulled her close to his chest.

This was only so they could apparate. Nothing more behind it.

She told herself.

When they arrived at Borgin and Burkes in Diagon Alley, Aurelia reluctantly let go of Severus’ hand, and they made their way to the staircase tucked away in the nearby alley.
 
“Avian compendium.” Aurelia uttered at the abandoned-looking basement they stood in front of. The door swung open. Severus followed closely behind as they navigated through the entrance to a half-completed safe house for the Order of the Phoenix. They had many safehouses to ensure their congregations remained secret. Once they arrived at the meeting room, bare bones with just a large table and chairs, they promptly sat down across from one another waiting for the meeting to commence. A few other Order Members were present: Remus Lupin, the newlywed Longbottoms, and Edgar Bones. Aurelia suspected they were waiting on just a few more, as well as Dumbledore himself.
 
Her mind wandered as she waited. At first, she focused on the mundane tasks ahead of her in the next few days. Reviewing papers for end-of-term work, planning lectures after the new year, what she’d be eating for her next meal. She was starving!

Starving and unsatisfied

she thought to herself, which led her mind to the less mundane. A flash of Severus catching her before she fell, that familiar flip of her stomach at the thought of it. Snippets of how she

would have liked

a few of their interactions to have gone: His strong hands touching every inch of her, not leaving a single patch of skin unexplored. 
 
Severus shifted in his seat, uncharacteristically bobbing his leg up and down.

Wouldn’t it be rich,

she thought

if he knew what I was thinking about right now?

And her mind pivoted to the shock of seeing him clad in only a towel, to catching the quickest glimpse of his bare back and curiously sculpted behind. 
 
Severus let out a cough at the same time she thought about him. That stopped her cold. She cast a glance at him, noticing his failure to meet her gaze.

There is NO way. The Drake makes me all but immune to Legilimens onslaughts. It literally burns people out.

But… if she had taken her potion, the one to subside the power of The Drake, to suppress it, leash it… did that also mean that her mind was left unprotected?
 
She intentionally turned her thoughts to Severus sitting next to her now. She imagined herself climbing on top of him, nestling the apex of her thighs directly onto his length and rocking back and forth –
 
Severus shot a bewildered glance at her, growing pink around the ears and hollows of his cheeks, only confirming your suspicions. Aurelia went equally pink, eyes widening. She was just about to say something to him when Dumbledore walked through the doors - demanding her attention, and the attention of the other Order members. 
 
“There is reason to believe,” the old man started “that a syndicate of Death Eaters are inciting an attack on St. Mungo’s,” he finished solemnly. 
 
“What’s the plan then? Why aren’t there more of us on this?” Frank Longbottom interjected.
 
“There is also reason to believe that this is a trap. To lure the Order in, and take out as many as possible,” Dumbledore explained.
 
“Even if it’s a trap, shouldn’t we be fighting to protect the patients there? We have wounded still recovering from the last fight,” Frank argued, clasping his wife’s hand.
 
Severus shot a glance towards Aurelia. His placid face betrayed little, but she could still see the fear in his eyes. This might very well be a death sentence.
 
“The plan is to go in with an isolated, well-trained task force. Get in. Get the intel we need. Get out,” Alastor Moody said from the corner. Aurelia hadn’t even noticed his arrival.
 
“When do we leave?” she asked.
 
Dumbledore pulled a pocket watch from within his robes, “Now,” he said with finality.
 
“Remember your pairs. Remember to stick together. Especially on this one,” Alastor said following Dumbledore out of the room.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Severus had paired with Aurelia since they’d joined the fight. Well, since she

rejoined

the fight. Their ability to wordlessly communicate with their eyes, the inherent understanding they had for one another often kept them clear of Death’s door. Aurelia was… devastation. She was death incarnate. Fear corporealized. Her spellwork was relentless, and her ability to cast brutal curses wordlessly was an unmatched asset. More than a handful of encounters with the Dark Lord’s minions had left a fair few purging their dinners at the destruction she wrought. Many in the Order disapproved, another reason she paired well with Severus - the two understood what it often took to seize a victory. 
 Tonight was different from the rest. This unspoken tension between the two left Severus uncertain of the battle’s outcome. And why on earth did she have to toss those thoughts into his head right before they went into this mission? It wasn’t like he had been probing her mind, though he would have previously leapt at the idea of reading her thoughts and uncovering what The Drake protected. He was almost thankful for Dumbledore’s news which instantaneously left him deflated.  
He cast a glance at her again as they left the Order’s hideout. She was visibly avoiding his eyes. She simply held out her hand to him, and they were off.
 
It was chaos immediately. No need for the Order Members to question whether this attack was a trap. It was. As soon as they apparated, they were in the thick of it, up against ten Death Eaters to one. They fought fiercely, though. With their combined abilities, this could probably classify as a victory. Probably.
 
The same could not be said for the others that had arrived shortly after Severus and Aurelia. Noticing their struggle, getting beaten back with curse after curse, Aurelia squeezed Severus’ upper arm indicating her intent to shift focus, she would help the others. He nodded, not looking at her as he shielded attacks of his own. 
 
Had he risked a glance at her, he would have seen something truly awe-inspiring. Her grayed eyes burned red, glowing in the darkness of the evening. Her hair began to lift in tangles, an unholy halo. She didn’t walk among the rubble, rather glided a few inches above it. She didn’t seem real. The utter damnation she promised… it was clear what she had promised to unleash. The Drake had been awoken, and it did not often take prisoners.

She cleared the threats encompassing her other companions. With a flick of her wand, fire erupted from within a handful of Death Eaters, burning them from the inside out. She

Bombarda Maxima’d

a few others, their remains nothing but red spray in the air. Her power began to falter. Her abilities were powerful, that much was not up for debate, but they were more of a sprint than a marathon. The glow of her eyes lessened to a dull red in her irises alone. She began to turn her way back to Severus.
 
He was getting pushed back now. The number of Death Eaters belting an onslaught of curses towards the potions master had nearly doubled since she’d left. She was close now. So close. She saw a female Death Eater apparate out of Severus’ eyeline. He was defenseless. The malevolent witch raised her wicked wand. 
 
Aurelia acted. She launched herself forward, grabbing Severus around his middle, effectively tackling him out of harm’s way. Had the circumstances been any different she might have even been proud at the perfect execution of such a tackle. She had, however, been hit squarely in her own chest by the curse intended for Severus. Before they could land amongst the rubble, she apparated them, using the last of her strength.

He was surrounded, but could feel her presence returning to aid him. The Death Eaters edged closer, their attacks more brutal, but also more predictable.

We might actually win

was his last thought before a force hit his midsection, and they were being sucked through a straw -

Who the hell is apparating me right now?

When they landed, he briefly took in his surroundings. It was cozy? Plants hung from too many surfaces to count. Books lined the walls. A small kitchen separated him from a fireplace and evident reading nook. Warm light radiated from everywhere. It was clean, but smelled lived in - like coffee, and books, and woodsmoke, and laughter. 
 
Finally, he looked at the one responsible for his flight from the battle. His heart dropped. Aurelia was pale-faced in front of him now. The witch had dropped her grasp around his middle. Now, she looked stunned as her gaze dropped to her body. She seemed to be fighting the urge to cry out, whether from pure shock or an attempt to save face, Severus wasn’t sure. Her eyes fluttered as she lifted shaking hands and opened the front of her robes. 
 
Red.
 
She glanced at Severus then, “oh,” was all she said before she fell to the ground, consciousness leaving her.
 
Springing into action, he assessed her wounds. It looked like Sectumsempra turned up a notch: long gashes covered her body. She was losing blood rapidly, it puddled at his knees as he got to work. 
 
His heart was beating out of his chest, the panic threatening to leave him incapacitated too. He wouldn’t allow it. What was the countercurse for his own damn spell? “Vulnera Sanentur,” he sing-songed over and over, brandishing his wand at the deadliest-looking wounds.

Dittany. I need dittany. And blood replenisher. Probably a strength potion too.

He thought as he got her bleeding under control. He’d need to bandage her still. She wouldn’t have scars if he could just find some damn dittany. 
 
He lifted her shirt from her shoulders, her body slumping lifelessly against his chest. She was covered in blood, wounds still seeping despite his efforts. “Scourgify,” he muttered at her body and at the floor they now sat on. He propped her on the couch nearby. Her skin was deathly white. 
 
“Accio dittany,” he said. It shot out of one of her cabinets. He made his way over to her, intent on bandaging her. His act of disrobing the limp witch evoked only fear. And anger. He had begun to lean her forward so he could wrap the bandage around her back as well when he noticed the long scars that cascaded across her back. There were too many to count, and it was clear these were old. This damage had not been inflicted in this fight. He felt a lump in his throat as he continued his efforts to wrap the deeper lacerations. 
 
Once he found the bedroom, he carried her in his arms and placed her under the covers. He couldn’t administer potions until she awoke.

He glanced around again. He had no idea where they were. He peeked outside one of the grand windows that lined the wall of the reading nook: trees.

That doesn’t answer very many questions

.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

She was in pain. She couldn’t yet open her eyes, but she knew that much. Every inch of her felt as though it had been flayed, beaten, ripped apart. Her throat was dry too. How long had she been lying here? Where was ‘here’? She wasn’t in the rubble of St. Mungo’s like she’d anticipated after recognizing the level of soreness that radiated through her. She certainly wasn’t dead like she’d anticipated either. You probably didn’t hurt this badly when you died. 
 
She finally gained the strength to crack open her eyelids. She was in a stunningly familiar place. The plush bed she found herself on was equally familiar. The scents surrounding her smelled like home. She quietly turned her head, causing a throbbing sensation behind her eyes. Had she been knocked out? She noticed the figure slumped in the nearby chair. It took her a few blinks to finally recognize the man sitting with such an uncomfortable-looking posture. Severus. Even in sleep Severus looked concerned, forehead creasing, eyebrows furrowed together. His arms were crossed, and his hands and torso were covered in blood. Was that hers?
 
“Sev?” she croaked out, causing him to abruptly leap out of his chair.
 
He rushed to her side.
 
“What happened?” her voice barely a whisper. She was so tired.
 
“In your absolute idiocy you took the brunt of a curse that I imagine was intended for me. You almost died. You must have apparated us before the curse took full effect.”
 
“What curse?”
 
“I believe a sister spell to sectumsempra.”
 
“Then maybe it’s a good thing I took that hit. If it had been you, I wouldn’t have known how to reverse it,” she shuddered. She wasn’t sure if it was the thought of Severus in pain that caused a chill down her spine, or if the cold radiating through her body was the cause.
 
“Where are we?” he asked.
 
“Home,” she replied, simply, “How soon do we need to get back to the order? Do we need to get there now?” She asked, attempting to sit up. She clutched her chest, the pain there kicking the breath out of her.
 
“We will wait until you are fit to travel,” he snapped. “Lay down.” He handed her a few vials: red and yellow. 
 
“Did I really lose that much blood?” she asked gesturing to the blood replenisher he held out to her first.

“Yes.”

Oh

she thought, taking the potion without hesitation now. 
 
“How long have we been here?”
 
“At least a day.”
 
“And I’m assuming you haven’t eaten, slept or bathed in that time,” she stated gesturing to his bloody clothes.
 
He said nothing.
 
“Go shower, Sev. I promise I won’t die while you’re gone.”
 
Her mind, though still cloudy with fatigue and pain, twisted around the idea of telling him everything. She could have lost him that night. What would all of this have even been for had he died? She had been sent to see him through to the start of the war, to ensure he escaped the grasping claws of the Dark Lord during his teen years. Of course, in solidifying his new future she was wordlessly charged with the task of making this timeline a more favorable one for the world at large. The Council hadn’t specified this addition to her mission, but she knew it was the only way they’d allow this timeline to become. No additional help would come to her. The Council had decided he was deserving of another chance in another life, and she had helped to give him that. If he died this time around, that was it. 
 
He was more, now. So much more than her 15-year old brain could have fathomed when she volunteered as his Epoch. She was meant to return to the Council upon graduation from Hogwarts, assuming she’d destroyed the Horcruxes by then. That task had proved far more complicated than she had anticipated, too. The thought of Traveling to the Council after all this was making her stomach knot. Aurelia

had

been briefly surprised at Lachesis’ continued absence. The Fate was a control freak, and an exacting one at that. Why had he let her continue? 
 
She had no idea what her prolonged excursion would mean for her place among the Council, but she knew she had to see this through, if only to be by his side for as much time as she was granted. Really, she didn’t even know if they were even coming to retrieve her at this point. She’d been gone so much longer than they’d estimated. She could very well get stuck here as some kind of punishment. Would there truly be any harm in sharing her secrets, her life, with Severus? She knew he was confused, and likely hurt, by her inability to share more. Enduring nearly seven years of secrets from your best friend was bound to do some damage. Her heart ached at that thought.

Severus returned a short while later. Hair still wet, smelling of coconut shampoo housed in the shower, as evidence that he had in fact bathed. He had forgone a meal, anxious to get back to Aurelia. She was stable, but being awake so shortly after an incident like that was surprising. She had to be in insurmountable pain. It truly was a wonder she hadn’t died that night from blood loss, or caused either of them to splinch. 
 
Aurelia was propped up against the headboard of the bed she rested upon, and Severus felt a pang of irritation.

Is she hellbent on prolonging her healing?

While he had decided to disregard her comment about his need for a meal, he did bring her a plate of food which he placed within a reachable distance on the bed next to her. He sat in the chair by her bed, waiting.
 
She raised an eyebrow, “Already ate, did we?”
 
He remained silent.
 
She patted the bed next to her in invitation. He obliged.
 
“Where are we?” he asked again after settling into a comfortable position next to her.
 
“Northwest Oregon. I created this place during Hogwarts,” she explained.
 
She’d managed a transcontinental apparition after suffering a deadly curse.

How?

“It was already alive and lit by the time we got here,” a question in his tone.
 
“It’s enchanted to do that once I cross the threshold. Nobody else knows about this place.” She seemed ill-at-ease, as though there was more to her house, to this place, to her. And of course there was. There was always more under the surface with Aurelia.
 
He waited.
 
She remained silently stewing, biting her cheek in deep contemplation.
 
“The scars on your back,” he started, quietly “Who did this to you?” a simmering rage undercutting his words.
 
She took a deep breath, as much as her bandages and healing wounds would allow. She looked at him, still seeming to war within herself. Finally, she cocked her head, a look of mixed uncertainty and concern settling on her face.
 
“I think, in order for you to understand those scars, what they mean, you would need to know more. You would need to know –” she cut herself off with another deep breath, turning her gaze to him. Her eyes were a kaleidoscope of changing colors, “You would need to know everything,” she finished.
 
He turned his gaze away from her. It was silently agreed upon during their fifth year that they did not talk about her secrets, as much as he’d wanted to know them, as much as he’d wanted to know her. His desire for answers had only grown in these last few years, and he felt a pang realizing she likely wouldn’t divulge her mysteries even now.
 
“So, I think I should tell you. Everything.”
 
He slowly turned to look at her. Surprise couldn’t accurately describe what he was feeling. Her brows pinched. She pressed her lips together. He stared back, planes of his face not revealing anything.
 
And so she began.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

She started her story the only way she knew how: from the very beginning.
 
“I was… very young when my magical abilities began to manifest. I could direct my power, I had control that isn’t seen very often in magical children that young, as you know. That could have easily been glossed over if it weren’t for the added impact of my bloodline. You know what my access to the Drake means for me, to some extent. The need to shift if I can’t control my emotions, the power behind my spellwork, naturally resistant to Legilimency,” she looked at him then. She would have blushed if she’d had enough blood in her body to spare.
 
“Combined, my powers, my bloodline, my control made me an excellent candidate for the Council.”
 
He looked quizzically back at her.
 
“The Wizard’s Council?” he asked.
 
“The Council of Fates, or more officially ‘Fati Concilium.’ I was recruited before I’d even turned eight, and what was my family to do? Deny a powerful consolidation of witches and wizards?”
 
“I’m sorry, but what is this Council?” he interrupted.
 
“The Council of Fates intervenes in the aftermath of cataclysmic world events” she recited. It was a line she’d read a million times her first few weeks among the other Epochs, “They allow for a change in the events sequence in hopes for a better outcome, when the case calls for it. Sometimes they even allow second chances,” she glanced at him, but quickly tore her attention away from him. She stared at her hands instead, a glossy expression crossing her face. “They are not an entity to be trifled with,” she said quietly. 
 
“So off I went. They enrolled me in their own school system, the idea was to train and educate me, along with others like me, as much as possible, as quickly as possible. It was hard, brutal. Mistakes were unacceptable, and we quickly learned not to make mistakes. I was casting patronuses, killing curses, healing spells, by the time you would have been learning how to levitate feathers.
 
“Advanced potions, charms, transfiguration, you name it. We were also taught the history of the wizarding world. Not just in the Americas, or Europe, everywhere. The Council is not made up of individuals from just one part of the world, but all of it. What

I

know of world history is quite different from what you might know, because they taught us what they had

allowed

to be changed.
 
“And that was their goal. To prepare us to go back, or forward. To help push changes we calculated would result in better odds for the world. I was fourteen when I got my first assignment. I’d actually volunteered for it,” she smiled to herself.
 
“We’re given a debriefing every time a Repositioning is up for selection. Repositioning is just the Council’s way of saying ‘Hey we’re going to intervene here.’ And so here I was, at my second Repositioning Assembly, listening to them recount the actions this one man in particular had taken to save wizarding lives around the world. It was clear to me, and I think to others, that he had made so many decisions, and followed along with so many plans primarily out of penance. The love of his life had died as a result of choices he made. Ones that traced back to his teenage years. We saw his dying memories displayed for a boy, in hopes that his last act - to tell it all - would bring about the end to this terror.”
 
She looked at him again. 
 
“I saw a man that had given everything. Given up the opportunity to be consoled, or held in a positive regard by people he cared so deeply about. He gave it all up without question, because he thought it would save the world. I

had

to be the one that would help him get a second chance. I wasn’t about to sit on the sidelines for this one, waiting around to see if he would in fact get a happily ever after this time around.
 
“So, I raised my hand. I picked out a point in his timeline that I thought would bring about the most change for the cause… And they let me. They assigned me as his Epoch. The rules were very clear: Guide, but do not share the secrets of The Council, do not share what his fate would have been. An easy enough task, I had thought. Who would want to sit across from a man, and tell him if he didn’t shape up that he would die bleeding to death, thinking everyone in the world despised him, despite what he had sacrificed?
 
“I was given a few extra weeks of training, and the next thing I knew…” She huffed another breath, in an attempt to steady her shaking voice. “The next thing I knew, I was sitting across from a boy that had not experienced the horrors that I knew he was doomed to live through in another time.”
 
Her face was calm, but her eyes were alight with fire.
 
 “I was sitting across from you.”

Severus sat quietly for what seemed like an eternity. He was supposed to die. Or? He had died already? What had he lived through in another life, and what mistakes had he made to lead him to such a life?
 
He had been staring at Aurelia as the cogs in his head turned over this new information. 
 
“You aren’t supposed to be here, are you?” he asked.
 
“The plan was to see you through Hogwarts. Make sure you didn’t join the Death Eaters, do as much as I could to prevent Voldemort from rising to power.” she said, nodding. “I was supposed to report back after that. Or at least get some kind of message from the Council.”
 
“But you didn’t.”
 
She pressed her lips together in a tight line.
 
“Am I still going to die?”
 
“Not if I can help it.”
 
“Why are you still here? Your little mission is over. Severus Snape did not join the Death Eaters. What are you doing here?” he said, sneering.
 
“Sev, I signed up for this because I cared about you before I even met you. You are

not

out of the woods yet. Voldemort is still rising to power, and I’ll be damned if I let the Council assume that the only way to defeat him is to let you suffer. They’d reverse anything I’ve managed to do here if it looked like that was the best way for them to prevent losses. And you’re my friend. I don’t want to lose you.”
 
She reached for his hand. 
 
“You couldn’t tell me while we were at school, I gather. What allows you to do so, now?”
 
“You know, starting out with my first Repositioning, I assumed they would be watching me like a hawk. I thought if I stepped even one foot out of line, I’d lose my chance altogether. I couldn’t risk that. After Hogwarts, I figured they would send for me. I tried to make that as difficult as I could. These wards, the seclusion,” she gestured to the cabin surrounding them, “I was on the run from more than just dragon hunters.”
 
“And yet you still kept this information to yourself, even after they left you here. Why? Why couldn’t you have just

told

me?”
 
“I had intended to. When I reached out to Dumbledore, and asked for the position at Hogwarts. I knew I would see you then. I knew I could tell you. Then I

did

see you, and I couldn’t just put that on you then and there, ‘Oh hey Sev, long time no see, by the way I’m really a time wizard sent back to prevent you from dying,’

that

would have gone over well. Plus, I still had the nagging fear that the Council would still show up. After the other night, when you could have died…”
 
Severus didn’t know what to say either. Kept in the dark all these years for a matter that did very much concern him. It was far from what he had expected was central to her secrecy. 
 
“Do you… Do you want me to

show

you?” she asked.
 
She looked tired, more tired than even the blood loss would have caused, though that was of significance too. 
 
“Bring me a mug from the kitchen. And my wand. I’ll need my wand,” she said, not waiting for his reply.
 
He obeyed, and watched as she gently held her wand up to her temple, extracting the blue-white wisps of her memories from her mind. She closed her eyes as the strands flowed from the redwood in her hand, and were dropped into the mug she had settled in her lap.
 
He handed her another handful of potions; she couldn’t take a blood-replenisher for another few hours, but he could alleviate some of her pain, and put her back to sleep for the time being. She drained the bottles, and gestured sleepily to a cabinet in the far corner of the sitting room.
 
“Pensieve,” was all she said as she slipped into a dreamless sleep.
 
How she had acquired one was a mystery to Severus, but as she drifted to sleep he walked down the steps leading to the sitting room beneath.
 
He opened the cabinet, dumping her memories into the liquid that already filled the stone basin in front of him. After a deep breath, he plunged his face, and was dropped into the first of many recollections from her past.

Severus toppled forward onto wet grass. It was evening, a bonfire the only source of light. He was deep in the woods, where he did not know. A group of ten or so individuals stood around the blaze, arms outstretched, waiting.

Well, this is familiar,

he thought of their Christmas eve fifth year.  Trying to locate Aurelia, he glanced around the circle. Her features existed among the faces of those circling the fire, and yet, she was not among them. The flames grew brighter, crackling and whipping upwards. Then he saw it, a figure among the flames. She began to walk towards him - a living flame. So small. She was so small.

She tilted her head back as though to scream, and an otherworldly roar exited her instead. She shifted then, skin ablaze as white hot as the flames she was engulfed in, taking on the corporeal form of The Drake, as her kin called it. It was brutally beautiful. A dragon - though still smallish in stature, made entirely of flame, standing six feet in height and at least eight feet in length - erupted skyward from the bonfire that had been crafted around her. He’d only seen partial shifts in the forest, then. When was the last time she let herself fully turn?
 
As she took off, the memory slipped into another. Crafting potions alone within the confines of a shed in the woods, no older than five. Shifting again he saw her transfiguring her clothes to her liking, still so young. 
 
The next shift led to a memory not-so-brief. A man that must have been her father was gripping her shoulders as he spoke to another man clad in bright blue robes covered in moving constellations.
 
“She is young, yes, but her power is undeniable. Think of the opportunities that await her,” the man said, smiling like a serpent. “What would life here offer her? It would be a waste,” the man said. Though he said it charmingly enough, Severus could hear the explicit undercurrent of threat that lived among his words.
 
“Will she be able to visit? Will she be safe?” her father asked, panic rising in his own voice.
 
“Of course, of course! She can visit any time she wishes!” The man had gray hair cropped close to his head, tinted glasses obscured his eyes, and a goatee covered the lower section of his face. He’d seen this man before, at the train station. Severus had assumed this sharp-featured wizard had been her father back then. 
 
The memory shifted then again. Severus saw her blazing through coursework that even seventh year Hogwarts students would balk at. Her training was rigorous, and even at seven or eight she still excelled. From one lesson to another, years passing quickly in front of his eyes, her memories settled for a moment. 
 
She was injured, caught in the crossfire of what seemed to be combat training. She was pulled aside by her collar by the same man that had recruited her.
 
“If this were real, she would be dead,” he barked out, facing what Severus could only assume were other recruits, “We do not accept mistakes here,” he said gravely. “We punish them.” He pointed his wand at her back and she was blasted forward, a deep-set tear slashing the length of her back.
 
Her classmates rushed to her, only to halt as the man held up his hand. 
 
“She will heal, but she will heal without magic. Let this be a reminder to all of you that mistakes here will not be tolerated. A mistake out in the world, from one of us? Catastrophic. We. Do. Not. Let. That. Happen.”
 
Her memories displaced Severus yet again, and he found himself beside a young Aurelia in a stone corridor lined with glowing orbs.
 
“I thought you said I could go home anytime I wished,” she argued to the man that had taken her.
 
“I did.”
 
“Well, I want to go home, Lachesis.”
 
He laughed at that, bending to face her, he replied “Isn’t that sweet,” and walked away.
 
“I’ll get home on my own, you know!”
 
“Good luck with that. You don’t even know

when

we are, dear Aurelia” he called over his shoulder.
 
Slipping again, he was standing in a large room. A domed ceiling revealed detailed constellations that moved, very similar to the robes her instructor regularly donned. The dome was surrounded by intricately crafted gold accents. In the center of the room sat a rounded table, with a hole cut out of the middle. In the hole sat a glowing orb surrounded by what looked to be stormy clouds. The orb’s glow was the main source of light. He quickly found Aurelia, now a young teenager, so similar to how she’d looked when they’d first met.
 
He looked towards the orb and saw… himself. Conversations with Dumbledore flashed, ones he’d never actually had with the man. He saw himself point a wand at the headmaster. Saw the old man crumple. He saw himself holding Lily. Cradling her lifeless form in his arms. He saw himself protecting Minerva. Selling lies to Voldemort. Conspiring with Dumbledore. Talk of horcruxes. Casting a patronus - a doe in this timeline, not the fossa he was accustomed to now. Then he saw himself dying, in the arms of… James Potter? No. The resemblance was there, but the boy’s eyes. It must be Lily Potter’s son. 
 
“Look… At…. Me,” his form choked out. And he was gone.
 
He felt Aurelia’s emotions then. Nearly absent since he was first plunged into her history, he felt her anguish for a man she did not yet know. 
 
“We’re here to decide whether this is a suitable plight. Do we waste resources on this?” A woman Severus had only seen in the background of Aurelia’s memories. She was tall, with dark features, and golden eyes. 
 
“Something ought to be done about the war, at the very least. Why are we picking this guy out of the lineup though?” a bald man with a hooped earring asked.
 
“He was really the only reason the war ended. All of his efforts, he sacrificed a great deal,” the woman replied.
 
“Isn’t he like the main reason it got so far too?” the man with the earring asked, chuckling.
 
“Aurelia. What are your thoughts?” asked the man named Lachesis.
 
She held her head high, and without missing a beat she said, “He deserves it. A second chance. He at least deserves to know a life without that kind of suffering.”
 
“Hmmm, but is it worth the cost?” Lachesis replied.
 
“I’ll go myself.”
 
There were shocked mumblings around them.
 
“If it’s that much of a debate, send me. You won’t need an Epoch that has Revisited before. I’ll go.”
 
Lachesis smirked.
 
“Well, Clotho,” he said, turning to the woman that had spoken before, “that’s that.”
 
He then saw fleeting glances at her memories of Hogwarts. Arriving at school, befriending him, the constant fear that he would reject her. Always looking over her shoulder, expecting a Council member to steal her away before she’d deterred him from joining the Death Eaters. The mingled desperation and joy at his rejection of Lily. The anguish she’d felt during their final visit to King’s Cross. 
 
Her memories became significantly darker after her departure from Hogwarts. Flashes of forests, face-to-face with an enormous snake, her capture. Fear. So much fear, though never for her own safety. Always for his. 
 
He saw the confines of her entrapment, forced to give power to the dragon hunters. A flash of the torture she’d endured to elicit an anger-fueled burst of energy. The man that released her, yelling for her to run as he was overrun by his own people.
 
A cave. Her memories lingered here. It was dark, and so cold. A young man stood beside her on an island carved out of jagged rock. A pillar stood between them, holding up a basin of nebulous liquid.

“One of us has to drink,” said Regulus Black. 
 
“I will,” Lia said quickly, “under no circumstances do you even

think

about touching that water, Reg. I’ll be begging you to. Don’t listen. As soon as we have the thing, pull me into the boat and get us out of here.”
 
The man nodded, and Lia began to drink.
 
Her memories clouded, threading with pain, loss, grief, despair.
 
“Please, don’t. I know I can save him,” she sobbed at one point, choking on her tears.
 
Regulus continued offering her the murky substance, needing to coax her more and more with each plunge into the basin.
 
“We’ve got it, Lia. You did it!” Regulus said, holding up a locket. He placed the object around her neck.
 
“Let’s get going,” he said.
 
“Water,” she rasped.
 
“Lia, we have to go. Remember?”
 
“Water. Please, water,” she croaked again. And again. And again. She shrank away from Regulus’ touch. He tried time and again to cast

aguamenti

, to no avail.
 
The man gulped, looking between Lia’s cowering frame, and the black depths of the lake that surrounded them.
 
He took the shell he’d used to scoop out the potion in the basin. 
 
“NO,” Severus caught himself yelling.
 
But Regulus couldn’t hear his plea. Slowly, he crouched to the edge of the rocky crag, and reached into its depths. Severus held his breath. Nothing happened. The youngest Black retreated to Lia, holding the shell up to her lips. She drank.
 
“More,” she pleaded.
 
And so Regulus returned to the edge. He bent to scoop another shell full of water, and a hand shot out. He was pulled under. Figures began rising out of the inky blackness. Rotted bodies pulled themselves onto the jagged rocks, flesh tearing on the rocks. Even in her memories, Severus could smell them. Their faces were sunken, falling off their skulls. Skin hung limply off of them. They reached out for Lia, wandless. Their putrid fingers dug into her, pulling, pulling, pulling. Then she was under, and so was Severus. He could faintly see Regulus Black’s form casting spells beneath the water as he was torn apart by swarm after swarm of the dead. 
 
Lia struggled against them too, dragged further into the bowels of the lake. A sudden flash, and her memory went dark. The next memory she had, she was indeed stepping out of a fireball high above the lake. She landed onto the island. 
 
This was the last memory she had given Severus. He rose from the pensieve and stole a glance at Aurelia’s sleeping form in the lofted bedroom above. He ascended the stairs, and stood facing her for a moment. Her face was finally calm, though a strand of hair had fallen, caressing her cheek. He took the few paces between them and knelt before her. He gently brushed the hair from her face. He was barely breathing, waiting for her to wake up and push his hand aside. Not that she’d ever given him any indication that she would react like that. Still. 
 
He got up, moving to the chair that faced her, and waited.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It couldn’t have been but a few hours since she had last been awake - since she’d laid everything out to Severus - she could tell by the darkness that still crept in through the windows. Unless she’d slept another entire day, though she doubted it. Her body was still plagued from the aching slashes that still crisscrossed along her skin in raised lines of pink. 
 
Severus was watching her from the very uncomfortable-looking wooden chair beside the bed. Maybe “watching” wasn’t the right term. No, he was waiting for her. 
 
Her stomach sank to her toes. His face was unreadable, his new norm since she’d returned to Hogwarts after her hiatus. Normally, she could breeze past the neutrality, the carefully-crafted scowl, the boredom in his eyes. She felt a sense of foreboding at his seeming lack of emotion following his journey through her memories now, though. 
 
“Hey,” was all she could manage.
 
“How are you feeling?”

That was unexpected

. She narrowed her eyes at him. 
 
“Like shit. And you?”
 
He ignored her, opting instead to come to her side, his tall figure looming over her. He gripped the hand nearest him, turning it to assess the healing along her arm. He brushed a thumb over her wrist, where a few of the pink, puckered lines of skin met. She shivered.
 
“The wounds on your abdomen?” he inquired, eyes refusing to meet hers.
 
“Yeah. They hurt.”
 
Really, they were agonizing. He nodded his head.
 
“Quit dicking me around, Sev. I just gave you access to memories that could get me killed. Honestly, they could get both of us killed,” she said, patience faltering.
 
He was sitting in that wretched chair again, crossing his ankle over his knee, clasping his hands in front of himself. She thought she was going to suffocate on the pause he forced her to sit in.
 
“I understand why you did what you did,” he said simply.
 
She gaped at him.
 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” her voice deathly silent.
 
His eyebrows shot up.
 
“I would have expected a more positive response than that,” he said mildly.
 
“How are you not terrified? Or at the very least, pissed at me?,” she stared at him, mouth continuing to hang open.
 
“Of course I’m scared, Aurelia. A council of wizards - ones capable of winding time, changing history, altering fate - could be after us should we falter with the task at hand. I’m scared you’ll act like an absolute moron again, getting yourself hurt in the process, just for the sake of not wasting what time you do have here. I don’t know what you see in me, or the man I was when you first decided to take on this task, and maybe that frightens me the most. I don’t know if I can live up to that kind of expectation. 
 
“And of course I’m angry that you lied to me, kept

everything

from me, Lia. I’m angry that you lost your family, that you were sent out into the world barely a teenager, and for what? To

save me?

I’m furious I couldn’t help you, and even more furious that having my help could have made things worse for you,” he said, his eyes going deadly black “Anger, however, does not begin to describe what I feel after seeing that man hurt you. Seeing the proof of it in the lines tracing your body, and knowing that was one of many incidents.
 
“I am not angry with

you

, Lia,” he finished
 
“Why not?” she whispered in response, that lump in her throat still bobbing. Tears welled in her eyes.
 
“Be angry at me, Severus. At least have the decency to be disappointed, because I am

floundering,”

she choked out, “I’ve been trying for years to prevent His rise, Severus, and every attempt has failed.

I

am failing, and you don’t deserve -” a sob cut her off.
 
He was holding her then. His arms wrapped around her body like a vice, she sobbed into his chest. She leaned into the safety of his warmth, allowing the pressure, sadness, fear of the last seven years explode out of her.
 
“And I feel so fucking gross,” she said with another sob.
 
He chuckled at that.
 
“It’s not funny,” she said thickly, a smile on her lips betraying that sentiment.
 
He stroked her back in soothing circles, until her breathing finally slowed. 
 
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she admitted.
 
“There are horcruxes? According to your memories, that’s what he – what

I

was trying to help the boy with, before…” he trailed off, heaving a deep breath of his own to steady himself, “we need to find them. It shall be much easier now that the boy does not possess one.”
 
“We?” She turned to him, brows knit together.
 
“Yes, you idiot,” he said fondly.
 
“Severus, you’ve already done so much. This redemption you’ve been gifted doesn’t have to go wasted on war efforts.”
 
“I’ve done nothing. At least not in this version of reality. We will plan. Together.”
 
She searched his eyes for any glimmer of misgivings, almost hoping there would be doubt staring back at her. If he was intent on helping her, it would put him in far graver danger. But his look was determined, hopeful even. 
 
“But we will leave the planning until after you’ve had a bath yourself,” he said, scooping her into his arms.
 
“WHA–” she belted out, startled at his sudden movement, how swiftly he’d shifted her into his arms. 
 
He ignored her exclamation, and with one hand underneath her knees, the other supporting her back, cradling her to his chest, he made his way downstairs. She had expected her body to protest in pain at the sudden shift, but his gentle hands evoked only comfort. He set her down once they had entered the bathroom, the huge tub beckoning to her frigid body. 
 
His emboldened state faltered once he realized that she would in fact have to disrobe for this. His ears turned pink, eyes darting. 
 
“Oh my god, Severus Snape,” she said rolling her eyes, “this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a naked body, and I doubt it’ll be the last. I can barely walk. There’s no way I can get in that tub without some help. Besides,” she said, with a wicked grin, “we both know I’ve seen you naked.”
 
His mouth shot open at that.
 
“Hey, I didn’t mean to, and I’m not the one that used Legilimency so casually,” she said in response to his face.
 
She had turned slightly, facing the wall rather than him. An attempt to remove her bandages with some semblance of privacy. She removed her undergarments then. He was by her side in an instant, one hand on her waist, the other offered to her hand for stability. She stepped into the already hot water waiting for her and hissed with pleasure. He leaned over the side of the tub, guiding her down.
 
“I wasn’t

trying

to access your mind. You were practically shouting those images at me. At an Order meeting no less,” he hissed in very badly feigned disgust.
 
“Yeah, I had worked that much out… eventually.”
 
“When?” he asked, head cocking to the side. He had taken up residence sitting by the side of the tub, facing her.
 
It was her turn for her ears to turn pink, though hopefully that was veiled by the pretense of being flushed from the hot bath. She cleared her throat.
 
“The uh, last vision before Dumbledore walked in. It was a test more than anything,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek.
 
“Bloody idiot,” he said quietly, though the ghost of a smile played on his lips.
 
His demeanor slowly shifted, and Aurelia could tell he was reflecting inward. He tended to think entirely too much. A scowl manifested over his features as his internal deliberation continued a beat longer. She wanted to press a finger between his brows to smooth the lines there. 
 
“That man, Lachesis,” he started, though faltering. It was as though he himself didn’t even know what he wanted to ask, or whether he was prepared to know the answer he was seeking. The silent contemplation returned, sparking muted anticipation from Aurelia.

Spit it out, man!

“Lachesis,” she continued on his behalf.
 
“And Clotho. We’re missing a third Fate,” he said, almost smirking.
 
“Atropos doesn’t normally attend those meetings. She shows up at the end of it all,” she said, eyeing him warily.
 
“You cannot be serious,” he scoffed.
 
“No, I’m Aurelia. Sirius is likely with the Order,” she commented, lamely.
 
“They aren’t

the

Fates. Are they?”
 
His mouth turned downward.
 
“Time travel, second chances, me being a firedrake, those are all acceptable to you, but you break with the very thought that the Fates exist?” she probed, her signature brow raising.
 
“Aren’t the Fates supposed to be women?” he asked, avoiding her question.
 
“They’re also supposed to be simple stories to make us feel better about shit going wrong. Believe me, they have all the power described in Greek tragedies, and more.”
 
She looked away from him. She was scared, rightfully so. 
 
“What were you punished for?”
 
“Insubordination, miscasting, defiance, failure,” she listed off, raising a finger for each incident, each time she’d been permanently marked for her mistakes. Her eyes began to glaze over. Being here, in those memories…
 
“What of your family? I saw only glimpses of them in your memories, and you rarely spoke of them at school,” he said. She could have kissed him for diverting her attention away from thoughts of the Council, from Lachesis and his punishments.
 
She smiled.
 
“My dad was the best,” she started, “like, typical dad jokes, just goofy as hell. He had rules and expectations for me, of course. We just got each other I guess?” her eyes were far away, now.
 
“He was always so supportive, so

there

for me. He was the leader of us, you know, but he was never the strict kind of dictator you might think the ruler of a horde would be. He would talk to five or six year old me about how I would take over for him one day. How proud he was of me, how proud he would be when that time came,” tears threatened to spill, and so she let them, “I got my music taste from him. Listening to ‘dad rock,’ and indie always makes me think of Sundays with just me and him.
 
“Our favorite thing to do was fly together. The wind in our wings felt incredible, but the

really

amazing thing? Just being able to get everything out. The anger, or sadness, or even happiness for that matter, it all became so much clearer up there, so much easier to deal with all the bullshit. Not that I had to deal with a lot of bullshit at six, but still.”
 
“Were you not allowed to? With the Council?” Severus inquired.
 
“My emotions were to be managed,” she said with a grimace, “Tampered down, so they wouldn’t control me. They didn’t want to risk an unplanned shift, or a burst of energy. They wanted my power leashed. Showing emotion there, would necessitate a harsh punishment. Not that I learned my lesson for a while. Though, I think you already knew that much.”
 
His eyes darkened. 
 
“Hate to move you outta your comfy spot, but I

am

going to need some help washing my hair. I don’t think I can move my hands above my head,” she explained, biting the inside of her cheek.
 
He rose, silently

accio

-ing her hair products from the nearby shower. He refused to make eye contact with her as he moved to kneel behind her head. She looked up at him, finding him completely lost in his apparent interest in the ingredients on the bottle he held. 
 
He began massaging her scalp, soap sudsing in her hair. She had to suppress a moan of pleasure, opting for a sigh of contentment as a happy middle-ground. His hands faltered in her hair anyway.
 
He had finally looked down at her, face still heated, but otherwise unexcitable. That is, until he swallowed. His eyes were boring into hers, as if averting his attention anywhere else might tempt him to look lower.
 
She lowered her gaze, then closed her eyes. He had been rubbing her scalp for much longer than was necessary, but she wasn’t about to complain. He seemed to recognize this, though.
 
“Can you lean forward on your own?” he asked.
 
She obliged, folding herself inward. He gently began to rinse her hair, kneading it. He took his time, making sure every glimmer of soap was gone. His hand ghosted her neck, the shell of her ear, her shoulder. It was unintentional, she knew. Nevertheless, she shivered imperceptibly at his touch. Her mouth watered at each serendipitous skimming of his fingers on her skin.
 
Finally, he wrung the excess water from her hair, removing his hands.
 
“‘Spose it’s time to get up,” she said breathlessly.
 
The same routine as before, averting his eyes, Severus assisted her upwards. He held out a towel to her, until remembering that she still lacked much of her dexterity. He softly patted the excess water from her, though many places remained fairly damp due to his gentility. He helped her dress after assessing her wounds - many of them healed over on the surface, but she would likely be sore for the following days, he told her.
 
He lifted her into his arms, and then they found themselves back in her lofted bedroom. He laid her on the sheets, tucking her in. She shivered. She was

cold

without the heat of the bath to soothe her. The chill from her blood loss still impacting even her firedrake ability to keep warm. He made to sit in that damn chair

again.

“Sev, I think the bed is big enough for two. You can’t sleep in a

wooden chair

for another night. That’s ridiculous. Besides, I don’t think I can actually get warm enough on my own,” and sure enough, her teeth started to chatter even as she pulled the blankets up to her chin.

When she had woken, he hadn’t known what he would say. He had watched her eyelids flutter, had watched her eyes glance around the room, finally finding him. He knew his face was secured into neutrality. He saw her swallow. Was she

nervous?

She couldn’t possibly think he was upset with her after it all. But she did.
 
His heart broke as she choked on her sobs. She had been so alone through all of this. Carrying a burden of this size for years. He faintly realized how close he was to her, holding her in his arms. 
 
Then he even surprised himself by relenting to her desire to bathe. Suddenly, she was even closer, his hands hooked beneath her, those elegant hands of hers clutching his chest. He prayed she couldn’t feel his heart hammering.
 
He was utterly lost once they had entered the bathroom.

Where the hell am I supposed to look? Do I help her? Should I leave? Not a chance she wants me to be near her in this state.

To his surprise, she did indeed want him near, at least wanted his help. A moment later, an electric shock went through his fingertips as he gripped her bare waist, and she was securely assisted into the tub.
 
He had smiled internally as she talked openly of her childhood, the few years of it she’d had. He scowled openly at her treatment from the Council, and then of all things, she had asked him to

wash her hair.

He glued his eyes to the back of her head at first, arguing with himself that if he

dared

to glance anywhere else that he would in fact be a gigantic pervert. Then her eyes had rolled up at him,

and she had moaned

at his touch. He saw the gooseflesh whisper across her skin upon his not-so-accidental grazes along her neck, ears, shoulders. 
 
He was entirely grateful her vision was isolated to his upper half. Had she been able to glance lower, he would not have easily hidden what her influence did to him. He knew he was taking too long, the shampoo adequately incorporated minutes ago, but he couldn’t pull his fingers from her hair. He relished this contact, the pleasure he brought just by his touch.
 
Reluctantly, he rinsed her hair. His resolve faltered, as she extended her long neck to avoid soap in her eyes. Her mouth had parted in a silent sigh.

Delectable.

Her neck glistened, tendons taut. His gaze slipped lower, to her collarbones, to the dip between her –
 
He ripped his eyes back to her hair. Severus helped her up again, and again averted his eyes as best he could. Avoiding his desire to rake his gaze over her form became increasingly difficult as he he toweled her off. His impropriety lingered, as evidenced by the strain against the front of his trousers, but he supposed his robes acted as a good enough camouflage. He scooped her up once more, deposited her on her bed, and had turned to approach the chair facing her, when she demanded he join her.
 
He swallowed hard. Then
began to climb in next to her.
 
“Uh, full robes and everything? Oh my god. Do you even have your

shoes

on? Go grab a pair of sweatpants from that top drawer, you absolute nerd. I’ll even promise to close my eyes while you change,” she offered, chuckling. To prove her point, she dramatically covered her eyes with her hands, a smile plastered across her face beneath them.
 
He grumbled to himself. She was right, of course. They were the robes he had been wearing the night of the battle. He had magicked the dirt and grime off, but he did long for something more comfortable. He shifted out of  his clothes with swift movements, he opened the drawer she had indicated and pulled out a pair of sweatpants entirely too short for his tall frame. He charmed them to fit comfortably, and slunk into them.
 
Severus felt bare without a shirt to at least give him some semblance of modesty, but the evening had already deteriorated quickly from the decorum he normally wrapped himself in. He slowly deposited himself onto the mattress next to her, and laid on his side, an arm crooked under his head. He appraised her, waiting.
 
She uncovered her eyes, and turned to face him. Her eyebrow quirked up in amusement. He promptly ignored her. They laid watching each other for what seemed like a long time, before she was suddenly knitting her brows together and wracked through with another bout of shivering, complete with teeth chattering together. He reached out a hand, wrapping it over one of hers. 
 
“Christ, Lia! You’re freezing!” he pulled her to his chest without so much as a thought.
 
She was chilled to the touch.

Could probably do with another blood replenisher soon

he thought. Her quaking tapered off as he held her, allowing the witch to steal his warmth. She slowly relaxed into his grip.

Okay, let her go now.

But she had settled into him, her cold nose barely grazing the column of his neck. He placed his chin on her head. Her hands, still

frigid,

rested lightly on his chest. She let out a sigh of content, reminiscent of the one from the bath. He swallowed his desire, mirroring his own behavior from earlier.
 
She was blissfully silent as they stayed locked in their embrace. No questions, or quips escaped her mouth, only her warm breath against his skin.

What

he wondered

have I done to deserve this?

She moved, turning with her back to him now. He began to shift away, stomach flopping in disappointment. This was clearly a signal to remove himself from her touch. His heart stilled when she reached a hand out for him, beckoning him closer. He wrapped an arm over her waist, clasping the hand that coaxed him near. She gripped his fingers and pulled the length of his forearm to her chest, her fingers still wrapped around his own.
 
This was

intimate.

He tried not to notice the slope of her body, flush with his own. He swallowed against the thoughts of her curves, her softness, the smell of her

bloody hair,

the beat of her heart, his palm between her glorious —
 
She shifted closer.

Wicked beast

, he thought, passionately. He buried his nose in her hair, kissing the top of her head. He could feel himself grow hard against her, knowing that a shift in his hips would only incriminate him further.
 
“Night, Sev,” she said. And after lightly kissing his fingertips, she promptly fell asleep, his arm blissfully imprisoned by her grip.

Torturer. Evil, incredible, tormenter.

As though he could sleep like this: closer than ever, the image of her fiendishly slick body burned into his mind.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Somehow, Lia had fallen asleep despite the tug of fire between her thighs, and the obvious proof of Severus’ desire pressed solidly against her back. She’d been exhausted - emotionally and physically. Waking hours later, she found herself still blissfully wrapped in his arms. Almost blissfully. A fuzzy film coated her teeth, and her tongue was dry. 
 
Severus held her in a tight embrace. Even in sleep, his hands held steady, as though afraid she’d disappear if he dreamt too heavily. An arm was snaked under her waist, hand flattened against her hip. Another held firm in line with her sternum. His forehead rested in the nearly-white tendrils of her hair, his breath breezed lightly in her ear. 
 
Slowly, Aurelia slid out of his grip. His forehead creased, but he remained in the grips of sleep. She was shocked to find the aching tightness in her skin had eased - her wounds were much better. She downed the blood replenisher on the bedside table, then tiptoed down the wooden stairs towards the bathroom. Once she’d brushed her teeth (far longer than she’d needed to), she put a kettle on to boil, and brewed herself a cup of coffee. Every now and again, she’d tilt her head to assess the loft above - no signs of movement. 
 
She lightly padded back up the steps, mugs in hand. One was placed on the table beside Severus’ sleeping form. She eyed him as she set the mug down. One arm was still outstretched in silent invitation for her to return. His languid figure was roped in tight coils of muscle. He was lean and long, the expanse of him taking up a good portion of the bed. She felt a smile tug at her lips. He was here. With her. 
 
She slowly returned to her spot on the bed. His arm wrapped behind her back, though she remained sitting upright, mug in one hand, book propped on her knee, held open with her free hand. She cast glances at him as she read, content to feel his warmth surrounding her. After a few moments, she turned the book over, keeping her place with her knee. A strand of his inky black hair had fallen into his eyes. She moved to brush it away, marveling at their closeness, at the feel of his hair in her fingers. His other arm moved from its folded position in front of him, and wrapped around the bend in her waist. Still, he remained asleep. She returned her attention to her book, not bothering to hide the grin plastered on her face.
  
The first thought that seeped into his consciousness was that his arms were uncharacteristically wrapped around something. Severus usually slept on his back, limbs splayed, dominating the space of his bed at home. His arm moved up and down in a rhythmic pattern - breathing, and not his own. He wasn’t simply wrapped around

something

. He was clutching onto

someone.

He slowly opened his eyes, promptly shutting them again upon realizing he was still dreaming. It was a dream he had often: he’d find himself in Aurelia’s bed, arms locked to embrace her sumptuous frame, golden light haloing around her. He felt her fingers lightly twine a strand of his hair, fretting it between her digits absentmindedly. 
 
He opened his eyes again at her touch, brows pinching together. He assessed her, coming to as he did.

Not a dream?

Her nose was in a book. The witch seemed comfortable enough, locked in his hold, despite the intimacy of it all: one hand wrapped around her waist, the other resting on her upper thigh. The bareness of her legs did not escape him, and he longed to glide his hands across the smooth skin beneath his palm. 
 
“There’s tea on the nightstand beside you, when you’re awake enough to want it,” the witch said, not looking up from her book, or taking her fingers out of his hair.
 
He felt himself lean into her touch, relishing the light tug on his roots.
 
“I think I’ll be content to stay like this for a moment longer,” he replied. It occurred to him that he’d never say something so forward to her if he’d been fully conscious. It also occurred to him that he didn’t care. He’d seen the witch’s nakedness in more ways than one over the course of the past few days, who was he to deny her a fraction of his mind when she’d shared so much? 
 
She hummed in response. After another moment of silence, he reached behind himself for his wand, casting a

tempus.

“Why in Merlin’s name are you awake right now?” he grumbled, closing his eyes again. It was four in the morning.
 
“I’ve been in and out of sleep for days. I’m not tired right now,” she chuckled. She toyed with more of his hair, sifting it in her fingers, scraping her nails against his scalp.
 
“Mmm,” he felt himself sigh.
 
Her fingers faltered in their ministrations. He opened his eyes yet again, to find her staring at him. A grin tugged the corner of her mouth upward. After a moment, her smile faltered, and she assessed him with sadness in those glowing eyes of hers.
 
Emboldened by tiredness, by the honesty of the last few days, by his proximity to her, or perhaps something else altogether, he pushed the book off of her knee and tugged at her waist. He yanked her down, pulling her flush to his chest, abruptly shifting her out of her seated position. His arms wrapped around her, constricting her movements. He needed her close, needed her here before she drifted away from him and back into her memories again.
 
“Go to sleep, Lia,” he whispered onto her neck.
 
“You made me lose my place in my book,” she said, shivering as the torrent of his breath touched her skin. He smirked into her hair.
 
“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”
 
It was quiet here, their breaths sighing in tandem the only noise in the cabin. 
 
“We will have to go back soon,” she said after a brief silence.
 
“Can’t we just have this, Lia? Is this not enough for now?” The crack in his voice couldn’t be helped.
 
She turned in his arms, their noses brushed against one another. Her face was a mix of sadness and concern.
 
“Oh Severus,” she whispered, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, “How can someone as smart as you be so obtuse?”
 
He tensed, holding his breath as she closed the distance between their lips. Her kiss was gentle: a question. He answered. Gentleness morphed quickly into need. Longing, desire, seven years of waiting crashed between them as their lips met over and over. Her hands slid into his hair, deepening their kiss.
 
He needed no further prompting. One of his hands slid down to her waist, pulling her body closer to his. That same hand raked down her thighs, fingers dimpling her flesh as he did. His palm slid to her backside, pulling her to straddle his knee as their mouths continued their odyssey of each other.
 
Her heat scorched against him, wet and burning. He moaned, moving a hand to thread into her hair. He pulled her closer, devouring her gasping breaths, sucking her tongue, pulling her lips between his teeth. His exploration moved, placing ardent, fiery kisses against the alabaster column of her neck.
 
“Severus,” she moaned, hips rocking back and forth against his knee.
 
He felt his grip tighten at the sound of his name on her lips, a current rippling through him. His fingers tightened in her hair pulling her head to the side, hand on her ass no doubt leaving bruises.
 
He licked his way up to her jaw, pausing to whisper in her ear, “Tell me you want this.”
 
“Yes. I want you, Severus. I always have,” she gasped.
 
He pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes, a swirl of violet and gold. She took this as an opportunity to guide him onto his back. She swung her legs, straddling him, he felt himself pulse as she glided herself over his length. They were wearing entirely too many clothes. 
 
His fingers played at the hem of her shirt. Slowly, he pushed the fabric up, stroking her sides. She deftly pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it. He sat in awe for a moment, marveling at the sight of her. His fingers brushed lightly over her budding nipples eliciting an eruption of gooseflesh along her skin. She closed her eyes at the contact, softly tossing her head back. He leaned forward to capture one of her peaks in his mouth, grabbing the other in his hand and roughly swiping his thumb across her nub rhythmically. She moaned as his teeth grazed her sensitive skin, as he bit and sucked and rubbed at her
 
Her hands went to his hair, pulling him closer. She continued to grind against him, seeking to deepen the friction between them. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her harder onto him, bucking his hips in time with hers. 
 
He released her nipple from his mouth, panting as he stared up at her.
 
“I need to taste you, firedrake,” he said a moment before rolling her over.
 
He worked his way down her body, kissing and licking every inch of skin before him. Her fingers traveled over his arms, his back, his hair. The touch of her hands left searing trails in their wake. 
 
“Gods, Severus. You feel so good.”
 
When he reached the band of her shorts, he looked her in the eyes, giving her another chance to change her mind. She removed them herself, spreading her legs for him in invitation. He bent, kissing her thighs slowly, to savor her. In one movement, he wrapped his arms under her, allowing his hands to spread her further, pulling her to his mouth. He lost himself in her pants of pleasure as he licked the tight bud of nerves roughly. She writhed under his touch, but his grip was firm.
 
Still holding her legs, he used one hand to open her folds to him. The other, he brought to her entrance, teasing her. He dipped his head, swiping his tongue over her bundle of nerves tauntingly slowly. He lifted his head again. 
 
“Tell me what you want, witch, and I will give it to you,” he said, eyes locking onto hers.
 
He circled the perimeter of her entrance lightly.
 
“Severus, please,” she gasped.
 
He moved to tower over her, face inches from hers. His middle finger brushed lightly over her clit. She made to reach for him, capture his lips with hers. He pulled away, eyes boring into her. 
 
“Polite. But not what I asked,” he said, purring. Another brush of his finger pushed a gasp out of her. 
 
Her eyes darkened, a silent threat in itself.
 
“Quit teasing me, Severus. I think we’ve both waited long enough. I want to see what you can do with your hands.”
 
“That’s my good little witch,” he whispered in her ear as he obliged her request.
 
He sank a finger into her, marveling at the perfect way her wet cunt surrounded him. He dipped his head back to her core, licking her clit as he pumped into her slickness. He dared to sink another finger inside, stroking her in a steadily increasing tempo. 
 
She moaned, blissfully weaning her fingers through his hair. His free hand reached to caress her breasts, pinching her nipples between his forefinger and thumb, stroking the smooth skin with his palm. He could die here, drowning in her. Should bringing her pleasure be his last act, he’d die content. She rode his face, and he met her movements, matching her increased speed.
 
She cried out, clutching his head closer to her. He lapped at her with rough strokes of his tongue as she rode the last waves of her climax. As her breathing evened out, he rose once again. She pointed her wand at him, removing the sweatpants from his hips. She crawled to him then, pressing his chest to lay him flat, and grabbing his length with her pretty little hand as she knelt before him.
 
He threw his head back as she traced kisses up his thighs and on his hips, tauntingly close to his throbbing cock. With the very point of her tongue she followed from the base of him, to his tip, sucking the head of him into her waiting mouth. He let out a puff of air. He lifted his head to watch her mouth and hands work in tandem, tongue swirling around him as she bobbed up and down. 
 
He fisted her hair, white-gold tendrils spilling through his fingers. He wrenched her off of him, and she regarded him with a wicked grin.
 
“I refuse to spill myself in your mouth before I’ve buried myself in you, firedrake,” he growled at her.
 
Her mouth opened in surprise. Severus used her shock to his advantage, covering her mouth with his, flipping her on her back.
 
He used the tip of his shaft to work her clit, “Do you want this?”
 
She gasped out another “Yes!”
 
He probed her entrance, feeling her walls clenching tightly around him already. He slid deeper still, groaning himself at how perfectly they fit together.
 
“Fuck, Lia,” he breathed.
 
He rocked his hips, now buried to the hilt. She arched under him, and he bent to plant a kiss against her neck. He pulled out slightly, eliciting another soft moan from her lips. Her nails dug into the flesh of his back, no doubt leaving half moon indents.
 
“Moan for me, witch,” he said as he slammed back into her fully. She cried out.

“Good girl,” he breathed into her skin, feeling her tighten around him as the words left his mouth.
 
He picked up his pace, hips snapping. He lost himself, ramming into her over and over again, relentlessly. 
 
“Lia, Lia, Lia,” he ground out with each pump into her. He placed kisses religiously over her skin, catching her moans in his mouth. And when she called out his name - reaching her peak - he fisted her hair, pouring into her the manifestation of his own climax.
 
He flattened himself over her, arms and legs no longer working. His face was tucked into her neck. She wrapped her arms around his back, tracing faint circles on his skin with the pads of her fingers. 
 
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered.
 
“Oh, I think I do,” she chuckled in response, “I’ve wanted it too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Aurelia let loose a contented sigh as Severus slipped into sleep again. If the Fates had any humanity left in them, they might let her stay like this: holding the man that owned her heart. She knew it was only a matter of time until action was necessary. Whether that resulted from her continued search for the elusive remainders of Tom Riddle’s soul, or Atropos cutting her string, she did not know. She allowed herself the brief pleasure of Severus as he was now, wrapped around her like a dragon protecting its hoard. She smiled at the irony.  Really, she had wondered if their union would ever come to fruition. She’d doubted it, denied it for so long. It had never seemed right to pursue him while keeping everything from him. She’d loved from afar, and it seemed he had done the same.  She pressed her fingers to her lips, the memory of his crushing kiss roaring through her memory. It was as though she could still feel him, taste him. She silently prayed to a god she no longer believed in, asking that he be spared when the Council finally punished her. Because she knew they would.  What comes next? She thought to herself. Severus had stated his desire to help her. Her heart cracked; that this man should be sucked deeper into the depths of the wizarding war again, likely because of her. That he should bear the weight of The Dark Lord’s demise, again. She knew, of course, he had no recollection of this alternate timeline but for the secondhand memories she had presented to him. Still, she was here to give him the chance to avoid it all. To live. To be happy. Am I selfish for wanting him, should it mean he sacrifices himself again? Will he just end up like the youngest Black boy, dead because of her pride?  Suddenly, she felt trapped under his weight. Her mind was spinning with all of the tasks still unfinished, with his fate, with her own guilt. She was suffocated by it all. Panic had rarely settled its way into her heart like this. It had come more frequently, with sickening ease, after Regulus. Fear gripped her the same way the Inferi had, dragging her under. She tried to wake him gently, fighting back against the clawing sense of danger that constricted her heart. “Severus,” she whispered, pushing him lightly. He stirred, only gripping her tighter in the haze of sleep. “Severus, please. I need to move,” she pleaded, her voice slightly louder, to no avail. She choked on a sob, visions of the cavernous lake bleeding into her sight, though she knew it was not real. Yet, she pushed against him like she was fighting for her life. Like his grip was drowning her, pulling her deeper into the abyss of her fear. “Please, please, PLEASE,” she called out, shoving against him with each word.Finally, the pressure of his weight lifted, but it did not stop the visions plaguing her now. Of torn flesh, impending death, the smell of rot and wet rock.  “Aurelia,” a voice called to her. It seemed very far away, like it was trapped in a box. Or maybe she was. Fingers brushed her cheek. Not the clawing hands of the infernal. Warm. Safe. She opened her eyes, slowly realizing they’d been screwed shut. Severus kneeled before her, shrouded in her bed coverings, keeping his distance.  “Lia,” he whispered, soothingly. His fingers brushed against her again, “You’re here. With me. No one can hurt you. You’re here.” She choked on her breaths. I should have died instead. It’s my fault he died. I killed him. She grabbed for Severus, holding his hand in a punishing grip, needing his steadiness.  “Why didn’t he just listen to me? Why didn’t he just leave me instead?”  Severus’ brows knit together in confusion for a brief second before his face crashed into that of realization.  “It’s not your fault, Lia.” 
He doesn’t know that. He can’t know that. It’s my fault. My fault. My fault.
 Her fingertips started crackling with magic. She hardly registered the sensation. She was drowning. In what, she couldn’t place. “LIA. Go find me a mixtape that reminds you of home.” She whipped her head up, “You expect me to go find music right now?” “Yes.” She slowly disentangled herself from the sheets, from him, and made her way down the stairs. Of course she had something that felt like home. Like her dad’s hugs, the smell of the forest, taking flight. How the fuck is this supposed to help, Severus? How the fuck is this supposed to help me forget Regulus being drowned and flayed alive because of me?

Dad’s recs - Listen up, kiddo

Dance Dance - Fall Out Boy

I’m Just a Kid - Simple Plan

Teenage Dirtbag - Wheatus

Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

Home - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros

Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons

Skinny Love - Bon Iver

Mr. Brightside - The Killers
She waved her wand at the CD, willing it to play its contents. It was one of the last CDs her dad had given her. The script on the front of the disc brought its own kind of sadness upon her. The songs were so undeniably him. She flashed a withering glare at Severus, who was hurriedly putting pants on as he tripped down the stairs after her.  “Exactly what I needed. Some Fall Out Boy to calm me down,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, are you still drowning?” She stared at him. No. She wasn’t. She felt like shit. She wanted to punch a wall. She wanted to cry, but she wasn’t lost in her memories.  “What the hell was that?” she asked him, incredulously. “Trauma 101,” he said, rolling his eyes, “distraction only when you feel overwhelmed. Talking it through and sitting in it when you can manage.” “You think I’m traumatized.” “What else would you call the abuse you’ve been subjected to since the age of 8, the kidnapping and imprisonment you endured, and the death you’ve recently witnessed? If you have another name for those, I’m all ears,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Duty? My life?” “What would you say if someone else had endured those things? What would you say if I had endured those things?” “It’s not the same thing,” she bit out, eyes flashing. “Why not?” “Because… Because I have to do better. I have to be okay. I have to expect these things to happen.” “According to whom?”  Lachesis. Me. She knew she didn’t have a response for his question. Why did that make her so angry?   “Just because an entity tells you that you deserve to be punished, abused, tortured for a mistake does not make it true. Just because the young Black boy died does not mean it was your fault. In fact, your memories make it explicitly clear that you expected something to happen. His inability to follow your direction does not equate to failure on your part, Aurelia.” “Then why does it hurt so much?” she pleaded. “Because it was traumatic. Because you didn’t want him to die. Because you didn’t want him to suffer. You wanted him to live, to survive, to see the fruits of his labor in his fight against Voldemort. You are sad. You grieve for him, and for what he was unable to experience. That does not mean the burden lands on you. It lands on Voldemort. Without him, none of this would have happened. How could that possibly be your fault?” There was a ring of truth to his words, as unwilling as she was to acknowledge it. It was easier to blame herself, to carry his death on her shoulders. She could control that, couldn’t she? She could punish herself, ensuring she felt the full weight of his death. She could not force Voldemort to feel the same, to take the same punishment. “Fuck Tom, then,” she said, looking into Severus’ black eyes. “Fuck Tom,” he repeated. She leaned into him, allowing him to wrap his languid arms around her. She allowed the tears to escape, knowing there was no point in restraining herself now.  “What a fun way for you to wake up,” she said through her tears, dampening his chest. His hand stroked her hair in placating movements, “Yes, everything is completely ruined now. I don’t know how I’ll cope,” he replied sarcastically. She pinched his side lightly, “Ass.” Severus pulled back to look at her, “Be upset all you need, Lia, but do not place your assumptions on me. I am not disturbed or put off by you. I am simply concerned about you,” his eyes were hard as he gazed at her.  “Fair enough,” she sniffed. He leaned in to kiss her gently, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs.  “What do you need, firedrake?” he muttered against her lips. “Honestly,” she huffed, “I’d love to stay here and read, and kiss you incessantly, but I think we need to actually plan so my head doesn’t explode.” “Hmmm, I imagine we can accomplish all three if we try hard enough.” In one swift movement, he had lifted her up, guiding them both back to the bed upstairs. He settled her on top of himself, placing his hands on her hips. “So, Horcruxes,” he began. “Horcruxes,” she repeated, more than mildly distracted by his hardening length beneath her. “What are you missing?” his hands ghosted along her sides. She placed her own hands on his shoulders, before replying, “A journal, and a cup. I think the journal may be with the Malfoys, and the cup is likely in the Lestrange vault. I’m at a loss for how to access either.” He leaned forward, resting his lips on her collarbone as he spoke, “Gringotts will be difficult, certainly. There are wards, and Goblin magicks to be wary of. Lucius is deeply protective of his family, and he has not yet forgotten my rejection for his offer to take me to the Dark Lord.” Goosflesh erupted over her skin as his lips moved against her.  “We could potentially use that,” Lia replied. “Go on.” As she did, he lowered his mouth to capture one of her nipples, bringing the other up to delicately brush the other with his thumb. She gasped at the contact, “Maybe he’s too full of himself t-to… hmmm… maybe he won’t see a trap if you ask for an audience to apologize.” He moved his head to her other breast, scraping his teeth over her peak. “That could work,” he said into her skin, “as for the cup…” he rested his chin between her breasts, staring up at her. His arms wrapped gently around her waist, “I’m not entirely sure how to accomplish that without a kidnapping.” She threaded her fingers in his dark hair, guiding his head back where she wanted it. He obliged, taking to nibbling her breasts again. “A kidnapping can be arranged,” she breathed. She rocked her hips over him then, needing the friction.  “Speaking of kidnapping,” he said, his voice rough, “you never did share what you gained by the kidnapping of Sybil. What would you want with a batty woman like that?” He pressed her hips down, adding to the pressure between them as his length slid against her. “She’s a seer. She was supposed to See.” Lia leaned her head down to kiss Severus then. She didn’t want to talk about the prophecy quite yet, or how it had inexplicably changed because of her. He let out a soft moan as she rolled her hips.  “You tease entirely too much, witch.” “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you,” she replied, echoing his earlier sentiments. “I want you bent over, screaming my name as I worship you.” “Then make it happen, Severus,” she purred into his ear. She grazed the base of his neck with her tongue, eliciting a shiver from him.  He held her tightly as he rolled them. His length rested on her thigh, slick with her desire. He manhandled her, flipping her roughly on the bed so she was face down. He pulled on her hips forcing her onto her knees, her ass in the air. A sharp SMACK sounded in the room as his hand met her flesh with a slap.  His mouth was on her an instant later, tongue buried deep within her folds as he gripped her backside. She had to admit he was talented, the way he registered her every move, how he could easily follow her pleasure, seeming to know exactly what she needed before even she did. His tongue stroked wicked lines along her clit. She bucked against him. He removed himself from her for a split second to bite one of her cheeks. His fingers replaced his mouth, entering her fluidly, and pumping into her mercilessly. She opened her legs wider to him, needing him deeper, needing more of him. His hand came down on her again, and he grasped a fistful of her in his palm. She moaned into the bedsheets.“Come for me, witch. Moan my name.” “Fuck, Severus, keep going,” she panted. He moved to hover over her, a hand wrapping around her throat to bring her up, flush with his chest, as the fingers of his other hand still worked relentlessly inside of her. He bit her shoulder, then whispered in her ear, “I said, come for me witch.”  His fingers moved faster, and the pressure around her throat increased. She came apart in his hands, moaning his name as he’d demanded. He pushed her forward again, mouth taking to her slickness, lapping at her as she caught her breath. As her breathing steadied from pants of exertion to pants of need again, he rose to his knees. She felt the tip of him at her entrance, sliding in the wetness his fingers and mouth had wrought.  “So wet for me, Aurelia,” she gasped at his words, feeling her insides clenching with anticipation. He slid himself in painfully slowly, not stopping until he was buried in her. His hands gripped her hips tightly, as he pulled himself nearly completely out of her. He slammed back in, and she moaned at the ferocity. Pain mingled with her pleasure as he filled her again.  He set a slow, but fierce pace with her. Each thrust of his hips in, punishing. Each time he pulled back, drawn out. He was taking his time to feel her fully. His movements quickened soon enough, slamming in and out of her rhythmically. His hands crept forward to grasp her breasts, kneading them in his calloused hands. She moaned out his name again, fisting the sheets in her hands. She stopped breathing as his strokes continued, unable to move as she succumbed to her climax. His thrusts became erratic, as he chased his own high. He grunted out a “FUCK” as he pulled out of her, finishing on her back. He quickly vanished the remnants of his seed, before leaning forward to plant gentle kisses along her back.  He laid down, pulling her on top of him as he did. A hand reached up to caress her hair. “Well,” he said, “now we have a plan to take down the dark lord. We should brainstorm like this more often. I think it’s rather productive.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

They had, much to his disappointment, decided to return to The Order. Aurelia was healed, as well as she could be, and they’d been without contact from the rebellion for more than a few days. It was likely the Order presumed the pair dead. Severus would have much preferred to stay in the cabin. Forever. Aurelia, however, was certain his existence would be forfeit should the task of destroying the Dark Lord fail.
 
Severus, sharp as he was, struggled to rationalize the shift in Fate and how it impacted his life now. There were too many variables to consider with her intervention. He could not connect with the defeated, gaunt man he’d seen in her memories. Her continued fight for his second chance frustrated him to no end -

he

hadn’t done anything to deserve such a feat. He certainly didn’t think it was worth it for Aurelia to continue placing herself in harm’s way simply because she believed she was saving him from torment. 
 
They stayed in the cabin an extra day for Aurelia to rest. At least, that was the excuse he had intended to use. They did very little resting, instead preferring to explore one another as much as was possible in their brief respite from the war. Of course, they discussed their plans for finding the remaining Horcruxes. Severus found that topic to be at the bottom of his priority list, however. 
 
With a final glance around the small home, Aurelia grasped his hand. With a

CRACK

they were sucked into the vacuum of apparition. Severus was still floored by her ability to move them continents away. The two had chosen to travel to Severus’ home prior to contacting The Order, figuring it would be better suited to send an owl or patronus from the same country at least. They were not expecting to be cornered at wandpoint upon their arrival.
 
“The first mission you were sent on - what did Dumbledore have you do?” Alastor Moody demanded, wand digging into Severus’ throat.
 
“Steal back a shipment of healing potions Lestrange managed to get her hands on,” Severus replied, raising his hands in surrender.
 
“That’ll do.”
 
“We thought you’d been kidnapped,” a voice from the corner whispered.

Lily.

“Aurelia was hit with a nasty curse. We were surrounded. She got us out of there, to a safe house. We couldn’t leave until she was healed,” Severus replied, still gripping the firedrake’s hand.
 
“She looks fine to me,” Lily replied, coolly.
 
“That’s sorta what happens when someone

heals,

Lily,” Lia said, rolling her eyes.
 
“That’s enough. The Longbottoms are down for the count. Lupin and Bones

followed orders

and returned once they realized it was a trap,” Moody stated.
 
“The Longbottoms are dead?” Lia asked.
 
“Safe house. St. Mungos still isn’t an option. They’re in a bad state. Some kind of laceration curse. Wounds won’t close properly.”
 
Severus and Aurelia exchanged a glance.
 
“I think I know how to help them. We will need an audience with Dumbledore once I’m finished,” Severus replied, then, “How the hell did you get in my flat?” he demanded.
 
Lily turned pink, “We blasted your wards apart. Figured you’d either show up if you knew they’d been crossed, or you were dead. We’ve been making sure you didn’t hide anything incriminating to The Order here.”
 
“Oh shit,” Lia laughed.
 
“You’ve been sifting through my

things?

” Severus roared.
 
“Calm yourself, boy. It’s war. What do you expect?” said Moody.
 
“S-Sorry, Sev,” Lily offered, lamely.
 
“Just get out,” Severus replied, holding open the front door.
 
Once the intruders vacated his home, Severus rounded on Lia.
 
“You think this is

funny?”

he asked, glaring at her.
 
“Not the invasion of your space, but your reaction? Yeah. Pretty funny,” Lia shrugged.
 
“I need to go to the Longbottoms.”
 
“I should probably visit Dumbledore, then.”
 
“No.”
 
“No? What about our plan, Sev?”
 
“You’re not going alone.”
 
She rolled her eyes.
 
“Fine. I’ll stay here and put your place back together,” she said, eyes sweeping the mess surrounding them. 
 
He grimaced. He had curated his space to his liking. The first place he could call his own, destroyed. Everything out of place. 
 
“I’ll take care of it when I return.”
 
“Oh my god you’re so stubborn. I’m going with you to visit the Longbottoms then.”
 
“Acceptable,” he said with a smirk.
 
She planted a kiss on his cheek before he whisked them both away in another bout of apparition.

Frank and Alice Longbottom were in a sorry state, indeed. While their wounds could be closed up with dittany and various healing spells, they tended to immediately open up again causing excruciating pain and blood loss. The couple had been surviving on blood replenishers and pain potions. They could stomach little else. Aurelia had been capable of healing up in a matter of days. The pair that lay in front of Severus would have a much longer road to recovery, due to the curse embedding itself deeper as time went on.
 
“Vulnera Sanentur” Severus and Aurelia sang melodically over the Longbottoms. 
 
He took notes as the wounds began to close, needing to study the curse so similar in nature to the one he’d developed as a student. His counterspell worked, but only just. He was certain the curse would become more widely used by their Death Eater opponents, and unraveling the intricacies of such an incantation would be necessary to keep members of The Order out of hospital. 
 
He turned to look at Aurelia, her face scrunched in concentration as she continued to recite those healing words over Alice Longbottom, “Did you happen to hear what exactly was cast?”
 
Her eyes flicked to him, shocked out of her focus, “Vulnalta? There was more, but I was in the middle of tackling you.”
 
She put her wand in her pocket and strode over to him. Leaning over his shoulder, she began to read his notes. The words shifted on the pages, forming various Latin incantation combinations that could cause the havoc the Longbottoms still found themselves in. 
 
“It’s like the longer it goes without being treated properly, the harder it is to heal altogether. Look at this,” she said, glancing at Frank. The slices along his arms reopened like someone had split him at the seams. They were deeper now, leaking blood on the white sheets he rested on as the flesh separated once again. 
 
“Sectumsempra slashes like this, but it closes with a bit of dittany and some healing incantations. I can’t make out why these would continue to split, or why they’d get worse.”
 
He ran a diagnostic spell over the Longbottoms, hoping to catch a trace of the spell that incapacitated them, some sort of direction that might aid in their healing. The remnants on Lia would have already dissipated. He was unsure whether her firedrake lineage had saved her, or if his quick healing had done the trick. Truly, he wasn’t certain the Longbottoms could be saved.
 
“

There,

” he whispered as a wisp of black entwined with their magical signatures. The curse was a promise, “

Vuln Alta Sempra

, the wound is always deep. It was created to only get worse when one attempts to heal it.”
 
He looked at Aurelia again, “Your magic must have prevented it from getting worse. If not for the Drake, you very well could be in a similar state,” he said as his jaw ticked in fury.
 
“I guess it’s doubly good that I tackled

you

then, Sev” the witch said, gently brushing her fingers through his hair.
 
He knew what she’d meant. He knew she was only grateful she didn’t have to watch him suffering the way Frank and Alice were, now. But he felt as though she was seeking justification, yet again, for putting herself in harm’s way. He grabbed her chin with his forefinger and thumb, forcing her to look into his eyes.
 
“Don’t ever do something that stupid again. I don’t care if you think I’ll die, or get hurt. If it means that you’ll be sacrificing yourself, I don’t want it. Promise me.”
 
Her eyes, wildly blue and gold, widened.
 
“I won’t promise you that,” she whispered, “especially because I know you wouldn’t make the same promise in return.”
 
He scowled at her, releasing her chin from his grip. Looking away, he let out a puff of air in frustration. She was correct, of course. He would never make that kind of promise to her, without some part of him knowing he'd break it if the time came.
 
“Damnable witch,” he muttered.
 
She linked her arms around his shoulders, pressing her lips to his ear, “Why don’t we both just promise to try not to die? Does that suffice?”
 
He turned in her grip to face her, faintly pressing his lips to hers. Their lips lightly touching, he said into her mouth “For now.”
 
She stood up, brows suddenly knit together, “Those dragon hunters used me for more than just powering their encampment. They took blood from time to time. Do you think that would help them? If we could utilize the Drake’s healing properties?”
 
“I don’t want to use you for a science experiment, Lia.”
 
“Fine, continue reverse engineering the curse that hit them. I still think it’s worth a shot to look into my magic too. It could help.”
 
He nodded reluctantly.
 
“For now, these two need constant supervision. I think a stasis charm might help, and inducing a coma may prevent them from experiencing the pain this way as well. I’ll go find the healer on duty,” Severus said, standing.
 
He left Aurelia to rebandage the couple. As he rounded a corner in the safe house the Order’s injured were kept, his mind raced. Spellwork, creating new spells especially, had always been a draw for him. He enjoyed the complexities of the wand movements, and how they paired with the Old Language to more accurately direct magic. Intent mattered as well, of course, but there was a certain sort of science required for the task, as well as a level of creativity. Potions and spells were the ways he felt most comfortable expressing himself. Painting and other arts had rarely drawn him in; he’d always felt foolish when his projects didn’t turn out the way he’d intended. Music tended to be the exception, but it was only after Aurelia introduced him to her mishmash of mixtapes.
 
His thoughts swirled in his head, and being too caught up in their pathways, he neglected to notice the presence of another in the hall until he walked into them, full force.
 
“In a hurry?” a voice said from the ground. He’d knocked the person over.
 
A flash of red hair below him.

Lily. Was she everywhere?

“Apologies,” he said gruffly, extending a hand to help her up.
 
She grabbed his hand, using his weight to stand. As she did, she leaned into him, placing a hand on his chest.
 
“I thought you’d died, Sev,” she whispered.
 
She snaked her arms around his neck, and standing on tiptoes, she closed the distance between them. In what felt like slow motion, she closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. He grabbed her face, pushing her away more forcefully than he’d intended. She was startled at his rejection.
 
“Sev,” a voice called from down the hall, “I found the healer, so we can – oh there you are. Hey Lily,” Aurelia said as she turned the corner. If she’d noticed the tension between Severus and Lily, she didn’t show it.
 
Severus grabbed Aurelia by the waist, pulling her closer. Lily narrowed her eyes at the action.
 
“I see,” the redhead said, crossing her arms.
 
Severus turned to Aurelia, and softly asked, “Should we be off then?” ignoring Lily altogether.
 
“Uh, sure,” the firedrake said, shrugging her shoulders, “Hogwarts, or your place?”
 
He grimaced at the thought of his home, and Aurelia chuckled, “Hogwarts it is, then. See ya, Lily.”
 
Lia grasped Severus by his hand, and pulled him to the front door. As they reached the end of the safe house’s wards, they prepared for side-along apparition.
 
Just before they were sucked into the vacuum of travel, Lia looked at him sideways, and said “Jesus, how many times did you guys bone while I was gone to elicit that kind of reaction?”
 
His eyes grew round, but before he could respond, she smirked and there was black pressure all around them.
  
They arrived in Hogsmeade, needing to make the rest of the journey to the castle by foot. It was rather late after their excursion to the safe house. She’d obviously known something had gone on between Severus and Lily while she’d been gone. She couldn’t fault him for it, she’d sought comfort in others as well. This was, however, the perfect opportunity to give him shit, and she would savor it, dammit!
 
As they gained their footing post-apparition, she fell into his arms dramatically, “Oh Severus, kiss me, kiss me! I know I’m married, but I don’t care!” she crooned.
 
His eyes grew threateningly dark, “Control yourself, witch.”
 
“Oh but you’re so irresistible I just can’t help myself!” she said fisting his robes, and drawing him nearer.
 
“You are a devil,” he whispered against her lips, finally relenting. It was soft at first, a caress more than anything. Then it grew hungrier, he grew hungrier. He pressed her against the stone wall of a nearby building. 
 
His teeth grazed her chin, shooting fire through her veins, “Severus,” she gasped, any hint of mockery long gone. He cupped her cheek, pulling her lips to his once again. His hand slid lower, thumb pressed against her throat. His other hand reached around her waist. Their bodies flush, she could feel his hardness pressed against her.
 
Their kiss deepened, tongues dancing around one another. She bit his lower lip. He growled into her mouth, releasing her waist and palming her breast with his now-free hand. She followed suit, stroking him through his trousers.
 
Gods he was intoxicating. Nothing of the young men she’d been with during and after school. He knew what she wanted, what she craved, before even she did. 
 
“Should I take you here in this alley, firedrake?” he rumbled in her ear, hand lowering to lift her skirt. His fingers brushed her thighs, and his hand tightened around her throat as she let out a soft moan, “Perhaps not. I don’t often reward mockery,” he said, removing his hand from her thighs.
 
Her grip around his cock tightened, her free hand threaded in his hair, pulling him close again.
 
“Don’t reward me, then,” she began to undo his trousers, hand sliding against his boxers now. He placed one hand on the stone wall beside her head to steady himself. The other worked its way under her shirt.
 
Slowly, her hand snaked under the elastic of his boxers, freeing his erection. Her thumb traced the tip of him, wet with anticipation, as she stared into his eyes.
 
“Though,” she began to whisper, “I don’t necessarily think you deserve a reward for fucking Lily Evans either,” she said, releasing him suddenly.
 
That seemed to do the trick. He spun her around, bending her at the waist as he hiked up her skirt. He plunged into her, forcing a gasp from her mouth. His right hand found her throat again, applying light pressure as his left hand reached around her to stroke her clit. 
 
Her breaths became unsteady as he pounded into her. It was rough, nothing of the ardent kisses or gentleness of the cabin. Her fingers gripped the stone wall for purchase. He slowed for a minute, allowing her to feel his cock throbbing inside of her. His hand still worked her clit, but his hand left her throat, moving beneath her shirt again. He shoved her bra to the side, forcefully thumbing her nipple.
 
She pushed against him, needing his friction.

“So impatient,” he whispered behind her, pinching her nipple as he said it. He relented, suddenly snapping his hips, burying himself completely inside of her in one motion. 
 
“Fuck, Sev. Please,” she moaned. She felt herself clenching around him. She was close. So close. 
 
“Please, what, witch?” he asked, pulling himself nearly completely from her. 
 
“Fuck me against this wall or I’m going home,” she snarled.
 
“Always with the threats,” he said. She could hear the smirk in his voice, “Very well.”
 
He pulled from her, making her groan in frustration. Before she could speak again, he’d spun her around so she faced him once again. He lifted her, grasping her behind. His lips found hers for a moment as he sunk into her. She threw her head back as he filled her. He took this opportunity to nibble her neck, sending a chill through her. His pace increased as her moans grew louder, her fingers gripping his hair more tightly. 
 
“Harder, please, Sev,” she moaned.
 
He pumped into her, following her request. He drove her into the wall. She hardly noticed how the stone cut into her back, how cold it was against her bare behind.
 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she gasped, clenching around him, finding her climax. His hips snapped in tighter motions, riding her climax out with her. He pumped once, twice, three times, panting loudly against her neck as he came too. 
 
They stayed there, locked against the wall for a few moments. He grew soft inside of her, but neither seemed to mind. He kissed her neck and cheek a few times before sliding out of her, and setting her back on the ground. She used his shoulders to steady herself, legs incapable of supporting her alone. He touched his forehead to hers. 
 
He shifted away, taking a deep breath as though he had something of great importance to say to her. But it was not his voice that filled the alleyway they’d used for their rough encounter.
 
“Just the pair I was looking for, actually. What a fateful encounter,” the figure at the mouth of the alley said. Walking into the light of a streetlight, Lucius Malfoy came into focus.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Come along, Severus,” Lucius said with a smirk, staring well below eye level, “you must have known this meeting would come to be eventually.” 
 
The bastard cocked his head like a curious dog.
 
Severus had stilled in front of her. His towering frame acting as a barrier between herself and the threat of Lucius Malfoy. His hands were still framing her head against the stone wall supporting her. Slowly, Severus turned his head to face their intruder.
 
“Lucius, ever the voyeur,” Severus said coolly. He placed a hand firmly on Aurelia’s waist. The underlying message was clear:

mine.

Aurelia had to fight not to roll her eyes. She pushed out of Severus’ embrace, righting her skirt, and running a hand through her hair she spoke to their intruder: “Lucy, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
 
“You are to accompany me to my manor,” Lucius replied, quirking his lips. He was amused. That could not bode well.
 
“I’ll see the witch to the castle. I shall meet you at the Malfoy estate afterwards,” Severus tried.
 
Lucius had the gall to smile fully, his white teeth shining in the light of the streetlamp, “No, the witch’s attendance is required as well. She is wanted more so than even you, Severus.”
 
Severus growled something incoherently.
 
“Do not make this more difficult than it has to be. I am not alone in these alleyways,” Lucius said, cocking his head again.
 
Aurelia did roll her eyes now, “Fine, Malfoy. Let’s go,” she said before shooting Severus a meaningful look.

This is what we’ve been waiting for,

her eyes seemed to say.
 
She dipped under his still outstretched arms, walking towards the elder Malfoy, his hair shimmering in the glow from the street behind him. Once she was close enough to touch him, she lifted her gaze again. Severus took a moment to steady himself it seemed. Slowly, he followed, flanking Lucius on his opposite side. 
 
Lucius arched a brow, looking between them both, “You two smell like sex,” he said before abruptly grabbing their arms and apparating away.

Had circumstances been different, Aurelia might have gaped at the opulence of Malfoy Manor. The snowy peacocks roaming the grounds off-set the darkness of shadows from looming stone walls. A hedge maze could be spotted some ways away. Brick spread out before them, leading the way to the towering structure before the trio. Severe. That’s how she would describe the Malfoy home. It was all sharp steeples and dark windows. 
 
She could feel her ability to apparate wane the closer they trekked into the grounds. The prickly cold feeling of wards washed over her, and she knew they blocked her from a quick escape should the need arise. She swallowed her apprehension, focusing her attention at the flowing mane of Lucius Malfoy’s swaying in front of her. He didn’t even bother to turn, he knew they were following.

Fingers brushed against the back of her hand. She resisted the urge to clamp her hand around Severus’ wrist in a death grip, instead choosing to entwine her fingers with his. It’s not like their connection was unknown, especially in the disheveled state Lucius had found them in. 
 
Once inside, they were ushered to a large dining room. A long table was situated in the center of the space, chairs flanking it empty but for one. At the opposite head of the table sat a man Aurelia supposed had been handsome at one point. Now, however, his features were sharper, more serpentine. He was still a far cry from the monster she’d witnessed in the Pensieve, despite the red eyes he had even now. His visage was, thankfully, still humanoid. She guessed the last two horcruxes (Harry and Nagini respectively), as well as his resurrection through dark magic in the original timeline had done a number on him. Here, his hair was dark and wavy. Though his features were snakelike, he had high cheekbones and full lips. His eyes and nose were what gave him away: the red slitted pupils stared holes into her, his flattened nose flared as they entered the room. 
 
She and Severus hadn’t shared so much as a glance since landing on the Malfoy estate, let alone a word between them. Now, they risked a glance as the door behind them shut with a

click.

His obsidian eyes stared back at her, blank but for the glimmer of fear she was certain only she could detect. 
 
Her gaze once again rested on the Dark Lord, his fingers tented on the expanse of mahogany in front of him. 
 
“Lucius tells me you were once a prospect, Severus," Riddle said, sparing a glance to the now-silent Lucius Malfoy that darkened the corner of the far end of the room, "Now, of all things, you and the girl are rumored to be the cause for more than one of my plans to fail. More than a few of my followers have fallen to your wands. Here you stand, members of The Order, Dumbledore's lapdogs. What would you have me do?”
 
The pair remained silent. Neither had the desire to beg for their lives, not that begging would help them in a room with a psychopath. 
 
“Tight lipped, the both of you. We’ll see how long that lasts,” Tom Riddle’s red eyes flashed as he raised his bone-white wand. Its point aimed directly at Severus’ chest. At the last minute he redirected his aim, casting a “

Crucio!”

at Aurelia.
 
She was caught off guard, as was likely the Dark Lord’s intention. Had she not endured that very curse time and time again, trained with it, she’d have been screaming the instant the flash of magic slammed into her. As it was, merely a gasp of surprise exited her lips as wave after wave of agony engulfed her senses. She couldn’t describe it as fire. Fire had always protected her. It was ice, sharp and cold, slicing against her nerve endings. 
 
Severus stood rigid beside her, barely containing the rage simmering below the surface.

Please stay quiet

Aurelia silently prayed,

he wants a reaction.

Severus too seemed to know this, as his silence persisted despite himself while the minutes dragged on. 
 
“Impressive,” Tom called out, finally relinquishing Aurelia from the torturous curse, “but not nearly as fun as I was hoping. I wonder if you, Severus, are as strong-willed. We’ll have to test that someday," he smirked.
His face grew contemplative after a moment, "I’d hardly believed my servants when they informed me of the devastation that has fallen from your hands,” the man said, gesturing to them both, “it seems the stories might have a thread of truth.
You, girl, have been rumored to be made entirely of fire during the little skirmishes you find yourself in. Severus, your casting has always been a source of intrigue for me. The stories of your duels during school did not escape my notice.”
 
He smiled widely at them, sharp teeth peeking out from pale lips. 
 
“I suppose I either have to kill you, or allow you to join me.”
 
Aurelia felt the air leave her lungs.

No. I can’t let him become a spy again.

“You expect us to choose between dying now, or bending a knee to serve you?” Severus asked, incredulously. 
 
“It sounds entirely devoid of fun when you put it like that. I assure you, my followers are granted a great deal of power, Severus. I could make your fealty to me worth your time.”
 
“How do you intend to secure our loyalty?” Severus asked.
 
“By ensuring your loyalty to the Light is forever questioned,” Riddle replied with another snakelike grin.
 
“And how do you intend to do that?” Aurelia rasped, voice still thick from the pain she’d endured.
 
Impossibly, the Dark Lord’s smile grew wider, “Simple. I want you to kill Albus Dumbledore for me,” he replied.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“Unfuckingbelievable,” he heard Aurelia say. It seemed as though her voice was coming from far away - through a wall or underwater, as though she couldn’t possibly be standing right next to him. He realized his ears were ringing, Tom Riddle’s command reverberating over and over again inside his head.

“I want you to kill Albus Dumbledore for me.”

Was that all? Why not resurrect King Arthur while we’re at it. Or better yet, let’s find Merlin himself.

“Fuck it. Fine. How do you want it done?”
 
Severus whipped his head around to look at Aurelia, who had spoken again.

She can’t be serious.

“What are you thinking?” Severus hissed.
 
She shrugged, “I’m thinking about keeping us alive. Keeping you alive.”
 
For that he had no retort, just felt his head shaking in disbelief. He’d seen her ruthlessness in battles, knew what she was capable of. Why was he suddenly surprised she would go as far as murdering Albus Dumbledore?
 
“I like the girl,” a voice hissed from the opposite end of the room, shaking Severus from his reverie. 
 
“The girl does actually have a name. Since she’s the one planning to murder the guy you seem incapable of killing, you might want to learn it,” Aurelia bit back.
 
“Such insolence will not be tolerated,” Lucius barked from his corner. He took a step towards Aurelia, a move Severus suspected Lucius had assumed would be menacing. It only made the firedrake laugh.
 
“Listen Lucius, if I want tips for hair care, I’ll give you a call,” she moved her gaze from Malfoy back to Riddle, “How do you want this done?”
 
“Dead is dead, what preference would I have? So long as it’s seen by others,” Riddle spread his hands out in front of him, “
 
“Great. Sounds good,” the witch said, raising her thumbs like a cartoon character, “You got a bathroom around here?” she asked suddenly.
 
Severus caught the elder Malfoy rolling his eyes from the corner. Tom Riddle laughed coldly from the head of the long table. 
 
“She

is

entertaining, is she not, Lucius?”
 
“Yes, my lord. Enthralling,” Lucius said, stiffly.
 
“Well, show her to the facilities. I’m sure Severus and I will find a way to pass the time,” the Dark Lord said.
 
Malfoy crossed the room in a matter of strides. He deftly opened the doors with a wave of his hands. His robes billowed in his wake.
 
“That was dramatic,” Lia whispered beside him as she turned to follow. Severus might have laughed had the situation they found themselves in not been so dire.
 
The doors shut behind her, leaving Severus alone with a red-eyed lunatic. The pair stayed silent for what felt like an eternity, Riddle’s eyes never leaving Severus’, smile slowly growing wider as the time passed.
 
“Come sit, Severus. We have much to discuss,” Riddle said, gesturing to an empty chair beside his own.
 
A chill crept through Severus at the normalcy of the gesture. He’d just been threatened with death, and commanded to kill another man. Twenty minutes ago he’d been taking Aurelia up against an alley wall. He swallowed. They should have stayed in her cabin.
 
Severus obliged the request, slowly walking towards the empty chair. His death sentence? Aurelia’s salvation? He wasn’t sure what would follow, but as he sat, and the Dark Lord smiled wider still, he knew nothing good awaited him.
 
The air seemed chilled in such close proximity to Tom Riddle. Like the world’s warmth too hesitated to touch him. Severus brought his mental walls up, categorizing, waiting, preparing for the attack he knew would come. What secrets could he supply this demon safely?
 
“I’m curious to know, Severus, what drew you away from us? What separated you from your would-be family?”
 
Severus fought back a smile. Years ago, before Lia, he supposed that sort of line would have brought him to his knees. The promise of a place to belong more enticing than any riches or move for power ever could be. Yet, he thought back to Lia’s sentiment towards Tom Riddle’s ploy for gaining followers.

He just sounds like a perv to me…

No, the Dark Lord’s invitation to his

family

had long lost its appeal.
 
“Crabbe and Goyle weren’t much for company,” Severus finally replied.
 
Voldemort’s high laugh sliced through the air.
 
Severus’ skin prickled with the tension of it all. How he was supposed to act, he had no idea. He figured the less he said, the better.
 
And suddenly, his mind was being flayed while he witnessed it. Memories flashed by him as the pain cut deeper. He’d heard stories of Tom Riddle’s Legilimency skills, had prepared himself for the onslaught of this particular attack just moments before. It was pain like nothing he’d experienced before, an assault he could not push away.
 
He threw safe memories as quickly as he could, hoping to buy himself time to collect his thoughts. Voldemort’s consciousness cut through him like a knife, the white hot sharpness tearing past his defenses. Memories from home slipped through his mind, Hogwarts meals, innocuous conversations with Dumbledore, the last time he saw his parents.
 
Suddenly the pain dulled, and he was pulled back to the present.
 
“I’m beginning to think I spent entirely too much time focusing on you, Severus. The witch will have more to tell, I’m sure.”
 
Just then the doors to the dining room swung open. Aurelia stomped through the entry, snapping her fingers, “Alright, let’s go do this thing, I guess.”
 
Voldemort nodded.
 
“Make no mistake, you will be watched. Do this, and I might just spare you.”
 
Aurelia curtsied, ridiculously, and they left. Miraculously, no chaperones followed them out. Once they hit the open air past the gates to Malfoy Estate, they disapparated.

Malfoy Manor was a maze in and of itself. The hallways stretched impossible lengths, lined with too many doors to count. She’d hoped to meander unattended to search for the diary. Instead, she’d been sent along with Lucius Malfoy himself. While he was handsome, he was not particularly good company for spying.
 
Aurelia had to find a different way to locate Tom Riddle’s diary. One that would hopefully go unnoticed, without tripping any wards. Locator spells could work for specific items, but they ran the risk of being detected. Surely the Malfoys would be warded to the teeth already, not to mention the additional need for higher security thanks to Tom Riddle taking up residence in their halls. 
 
Simply seeking out magic could also work, though that was far more ambiguous and not entirely the best plan as Malfoy Manor likely had innumerable magical items hidden away throughout the place. 
 
She’d have to seek out the souls within the manor. Tom Riddle was sure to have but mere scraps left in the dining room. She couldn’t be certain for the other living creatures that roamed about, but she was certain she’d be able to differentiate between a scrap of a soul and the whole thing. Whether she could manage to pilfer the journal today was a completely different notion. 
 
Secured in the bathroom, she ran the tap. Closing her eyes she reached down into the depths of her magic. She could feel it thrumming there, within her very being. She found Lucius, of course, green and glowing just outside the door. And Severus a bright white, though his magic was alarmingly flared as she touched against it. Tom Riddle, a scrap of red, was just beside him. Five other fully-formed magical signatures traipsed within the rooms surrounding her. And though she almost missed it, for the slice was so small, so infinitesimal, she overlooked it at first, there it was. Glowing red like its original owner just floors above. 
 
She flicked her gaze to the intricately plastered ceiling, eyes blazing as though she could hope to stare a hole through the barrier. 
 
Turning off the tap, she walked out of the powder room to face Lucius. 
 
“Your toilet paper sucks,” she said, “Do you have a library in this place or is it all marble and tapestries?”
 
The older man scoffed at her, “Of course we have a library. One that contains generations’ worth of material. Not that the likes of you will ever be granted the right to peruse the collections.”
 
“So no grand tour?”
 
He cast her a look from the side of his eye, not bothering to respond verbally. Their trip back to the dining area was a quiet one, silence broken only by the click of her shoes on the hard floor and the swish of his robes. 
 
As she threw open the doors to face the Dark Lord, she fought back against the urge to cast a killing curse then and there. Severus was pale, sweat dripping along the sharp features of his face. His hair fell in lanky clumps, and his hands were seizing the arms of the chair, fingertips white with the force of his grip. 
  
They righted themselves in his torn-apart flat. Severus was still pale and sweating from his mental attack. Despite his sickly appearance, the fire in his eyes was ever-present.
 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he asked, shaking her shoulders. His voice was a deadly calm.
 
She stared defiantly up at him, “Exactly what I said at the Malfoy’s. I don’t want you to die.”
 
“I am not worth selling our souls to him,” he uttered.
 
“Oh you’re not selling your soul to anyone. I’m taking care of Dumbledore. Hell, I’ll even let the old man know beforehand, but you will not be the one casting that curse on him. I’ve told you this already: you are not sacrificing more for this.”
 
“I’ve not sacrificed a THING, Lia. I am not

HIM.

I am me. None of this is worth it! Saving me isn’t worth your life, Lia!”
 
“Shut up, shut up, Severus!” she yelled. Her hair was lit, the very essence of flame. Her eyes were a deep orange, the pupil still surrounded by a ring of gold, “If none of this was enough for you then what does this mean for me? For the time I’ve spent leading harm away from you? What was the fucking point if you don’t survive this?” she choked out.
 
“THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT, YOU BLASTED WITCH,” he roared, taking a calming breath, he said quietly, “I never wanted you to suffer on my behalf. I never wanted you to hurt to prevent my own pain. How can you not see the stupidity of it all? Your suffering is now my own, you idiot.”
 
“Great, thanks. Continue calling me an idiot for what I’ve been enduring the past seven years. That’s perfect,” she hissed.

“I’m in love with you, you absolute imbecile. I don’t

want

you to suffer for me!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Aurelia felt herself grow absolutely feral. How

dare

he minimize the past few years? How dare he– wait. What did he just say?
 
“Come again?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. She’d misheard, surely. 
 
“I said I’m in love with you, witch,” he spat.
 
In an instant she had him pressed against the nearest wall. Their lips met in a crushing embrace. He was clearly surprised by her assault, though not upset by it in the least according to the growing hardness pressed against her hip.
 
Her arms roped around him as she desperately pulled him closer. His touch was no less punishing, hands pressing greedy divots into the flesh of her backside and hip. Deftly, she loosened the buttons of his shirt.

Why did he always seem to have so many buttons,

she wondered as his milky flesh slowly became more accessible. Her hands roved over his chest, catching in the dark hair lining his chest.
 
His moan was caught by her lips, pulling his tongue deeper still into her mouth. She needed to devour him, taste him, feel him. She pulled at his belt, ripping it from the black loops of his trousers. Lips still pressed together, tongues roving over one another, she dipped her hand beneath the elastic of his waistband. His hands dug deeper still at the soft flesh beneath his touch. She gave him a tug, the silken length of him pulsing.
 
“Aurelia,” he attempted, voice husky.
 
She ignored him, instead choosing to drop to her knees in front of him. She tongued the velvet skin, enjoying the shudder she elicited from him. Her hand gripped his base, and she pulled him into her mouth, savoring the salty taste of him. The taste of

them.

Had it really only been earlier that evening that he’d had her pressed against an alley wall?
 
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked and licked him languidly. His hands lifted to her hair, pulling at the roots as he gently brought her closer. She hummed around him as he flexed his hips. He was holding back, she could tell. She picked up her pace, feeling him against her throat. She looked up, meeting the black pools of his eyes. They somehow grew darker as they locked onto her face. 
 
She pulled her face away, pumping him with her hand. The slickness of her spit sliding between her fingers. He groaned, pulling her up to her feet. He held her chin as he attacked her lips once again. She let out a stifled gasp as he bent to pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist in one fluid motion. Their lips never separated as he made his way to his bedroom. 
 
Ignoring the rooms littered with remnants of his life, he placed her on his bed, yanking her skirt down, disappearing her shirt with a wave of his hand.
 
His teeth grazed the column of her neck as he worked his way down, nipping and licking along the way. One hand was already positioned on her breast, kneading it roughly. He rutted against her, a mere strip of cloth separating them. She moaned as the pressure of his head hit her bundle of nerves, and as she did so, his mouth covered hers once again. 
 
His hand slipped from her breast to the apex of her thighs, rubbing against the cotton of her underwear. A finger pulled the cloth to the side, slipping along the damp heat gathered there. 
 
“You are going to be the death of me, firedrake,” he said in a rasping voice against her ear before slipping his head down to suck the peak of her untended breast into his mouth. She writhed under his touch, back arching as his fingers thrummed at her core. He was teasing. Slow. Calculated. The gentlest of strokes came from his hands, just enough to make her gasp, but never enough to ease the tension steadily building within her. 
 
Just when she thought she’d go crazy with need, he lowered still. Head between her thighs, he lapped at her. His tongue took over what his hand had done previously, licking slow strokes between her lips, pointing as he approached her clit. His hand caressed her inner thigh, and she fisted the bedsheets beneath them. A finger slid within her folds, slowly curving to caress her walls. She let out a low moan. He slid his finger slowly out, only to add another, tongue still stroking the bundle of nerves. 
 
Her back arched again as his fingers worked quicker, pumping rhythmically inside of her. He groaned against her core, vibrations echoing through her. She felt his teeth graze her clit, and that seemed to be her undoing. His ministrations kept pace as she rode her high, hips swaying against his tongue and fingers. His lips and tongue and teeth kept working even after she came down. 
 
Standing, he removed his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as though he’d wanted to savor the remnants of a delectable pastry. His eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy as he sucked at his digits. His free hand moved lower, stroking his length. When his eyes flicked open again it was clear his hunger was far from satiated. He pounced.
 
An arm snaked underneath of her, his other hand guided his cock inside of her.  She huffed out a puff of air as he situated himself, pulling her closer with the arm behind her back. He rocked in slowly at first, hips grinding against hers. A hand glided to her cheek, caressing it as he kissed her deeply. She felt the thrum of him within her, and fought back a moan of pleasure, her walls closing around him. 
 
He took his time, thrusting slowly and deeply, lips only leaving hers to nibble at her ear or kiss her cheek. His grip around her was possessive, as though he wanted to ensure she couldn’t be taken from him.

He pushed one of her legs up, and buried himself further as he kissed her calf. He rocked slowly again as his pelvic bone ground against her, and she arched her back in bliss again. She reached for him, begging for his lips against hers as she lost herself.
 
Their lips met with more ferocity, his hips moving quicker. The sound of their bodies against each other filled the room alongside their panting groans. His fingers pulled her nipple to a tight peak.
 
“Come apart for me again, Lia. Please. please.

please.”

he whispered against her, hips snapping with abandon as her walls fluttered around him. Her nails dug into his waist as she tried to pull him closer. 
 
A choked moan escaped her lips once more, and that seemed to be what he’d needed from her. His own choked gasp blew from his lips shortly after, pulsing into her, his eyes closed tightly as the sensation washed over him. 
 
He collapsed then, head resting on her chest as he remained inside of her. Their breathing slowed together. She drew circles on his back for a moment before pulling at the strands of his hair, silently requesting him to look up.
 
“I love you too,” she said, simply.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Severus had fallen asleep shortly after Aurelia reciprocated his feelings. The firedrake took care to remove herself from his bed without so much as disturbing a hair on his head. She tiptoed to the hearth in the other room after donning her clothes. As quietly as she could, she dipped her hand into the jar of ash. Tossing it down, she disappeared in a roar of green fire.  As she walked from the stone outline in her rooms at Hogwarts, she attempted to gather her thoughts. There were a few ways she could achieve the task at hand, very few would end well for her, though most would leave Severus fairly well-protected and far enough away from blame that she'd considered even those. His salvation would forever be her priority; she would be a fool to ignore any option that could keep him safe. Though she hoped she would be around long enough to see him to safety herself. Maybe that's what brought her to the castle in the dead of night. Hope. The halls of the castle were cold, barren but for the movement among the portraits. Students were still away for the holidays. Her journey upwards was a quiet one, the silence broken only by the deep, steadying breaths she coached herself to take. Her heart was a hammer against her chest despite her attempts to coax it into calm.  She’d expected the stone gargoyle to greet her at the top of the staircase, the few extra steps would have allowed her an added moment to gather her thoughts, twist her face into one of uncaring placidity. She had not expected the headmaster himself to be waiting in the arched doorway. When her eyes met the soft gray of his robes, her breath hitched. She looked up. His blue eyes held no twinkle. Instead, the usual shine was replaced with sadness, subdued by the half-moon glasses atop his crooked nose. They assessed one another for a moment before the man broke the silence. “I expect we have a great deal to discuss, Miss Drake.” “I expect you’re right, Albus,” she replied, nodding her head, “I think it’s time to bring me to Peter Pettigrew.”

Severus woke to a cold divet in the space beside him. No sleeping witch to behold in his arms, no soft breathing to soothe him back to his dreams. Rather than the firedrake curled beneath covers, he found a hastily scrawled note in the ever-familiar script he held dear to his heart.

See you soon.

The slip of paper was spellotaped to a new CD, as though that would make whatever godforsaken activity she was currently participating in any easier for him to digest. He knew the meeting with Voldemort had shaken her more than she was willing to admit. He knew that the damned quest her Council of Fate had sent her on left her feeling as though her personhood was reduced to nothing more than a human sacrifice. For him.  He crumpled the note in his hand. Had he a stronger resolve, he might smash the disc as well; prolong the crushing sensation around his heart with an act of rage. Why must she always hide behind secrecy? As it was, he popped the disc in the player and planned to listen as he paced his flat. If Aurelia was scheming, he would too. He would find a way out for the both of them.  Deep in thought, as the morning light finally made its way through his windows, the player whirred to life. He had expected music immediately. Instead, her voice filled the room.  “Hey Sev. Gods I don’t even know if you’ll ever hear this one. For your own good, I almost hope you never do,” she began, and he felt his heart hammer against his ribs, “If you are listening, I’m sure it’s because I left to go and do something wildly stupid and I finally wanted you to know that I love you. I have loved you,” the recording paused, as though she was taking a breath to steady herself, “Just, please, be safe, and be happy. Make all of this worth it.” Music replaced her voice, though he could barely hear it as a ringing in his ears took over. What kind of suicide mission was she on right now? She couldn’t honestly be murdering Dumbledore now !  Well, he wasn’t about to stick around while she tossed herself to the wolves yet again. Merlin, it was exhausting to love a witch with a savior complex. He tossed on his black robes, donning them like armor. In a few paces he crossed the space to his hearth, disappearing in a flash of green flame. He hadn’t even registered the music that continued to play.  Severus had planned to stalk out of the fire in a furious march. Had even envisioned his robes billowing dramatically behind him as he did so. He’d planned out his verbal attack, how he would incapacitate the being of his attention, had even screwed his face into a look of fury. It was quite the surprise when he stepped into his rooms only to find Aurelia ( damnable witch ), and the headmaster sharing a cuppa on his velvet settee. In fact, he caught himself opening and shutting his mouth a few times, unsure how to proceed. “Severus, finally. If I’d known you were going to sleep in today I would have sent a message,” she said as way of greeting. He stared at her, mouth agape. “Tea?” was all the headmaster said, gesturing to the pot on the side table. She snapped her fingers a few times as though that would break him out of his confusion, “I think he’s broken.” Shaking his head, he started, “Witch, explain. The recording you left on that disc led me to believe you were out sacrificing yourself to the Dark Lord. I came here to demand the headmaster prevent such an act.” She flushed, “Oh. I forgot about that dramatic intro. I made that a few weeks after my return. Does that mean you didn’t even listen to the tracks?” Dumbledore assessed them both with a bemused look on his face. “No, I didn’t bloody well listen to the rest!” “Well, you’re missing out," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, "Sit down. We’ll explain,” she said, gesturing to the chair beside them. He acquiesced if not begrudgingly. Once seated, he schooled his face into one of indifferent calm. Crossing his ankle over his knee, he waved his hand at them to begin. Whatever they had to say, it had better be worth a near heart attack. “We’re not killing Dumbledore,” she said matter of factly, and Severus nearly choked. She’d told him?! “I think we have a way to lure Tom to Hogwarts. From there, we can keep him sedated until we find the last two horcruxes.” Dumbledore nodded. The two had clearly discussed this proposition at length. “How?” “Remember that little blood ritual I performed on Peter Pettigrew?” she asked. Severus found he could only blink at her. She continued anyway. “Well, he’s been in hiding for the past few years. He couldn’t really go back to Tom, he wasn’t trusted by The Order after they got an anonymous tip about his Dark Mark," she smirked at that, "He’s headed to Malfoy Manor as we speak. He ‘escaped’” she said, putting up air quotes as she stated the last word. He almost scoffed at the idea, “And we gain what with Pettigrew in his hands?” “Well, he can’t betray me, can’t help Voldemort. He only stands to gain something with Voldemort dead. Pettigrew is nothing if not a self-serving bastard. He’s going to plant some incredibly false intel, spin the lie that he was kidnapped by the Order, and his captors became increasingly lax with security measures and sharing information over the years.” “Why Hogwarts? Why lure him here?” “He can’t apparate in or out, the castle’s wards will act as an added security measure. Plus, he thinks his horcrux is still here. He might be foolish enough to think having it around will give him an upper hand. Seeing as it’s destroyed, he won’t have even that to benefit him,” she said almost proudly. “How long will he be kept here?” “Indefinitely,” the headmaster replied. “And just what kind of information would Pettigrew be capable of sharing that could lure the Dark Lord here?” “Sybill Trelawney’s prophecy,” the headmaster and firedrake said in unison. “I believe there is the added bonus of watching me die by one of your wands that might act as the final piece he needs to be drawn in,” the old man said, that familiar crinkle around his eyes showcasing his amusement with it all. “When?” “Tonight,” Aurelia told him. Severus stood. The nerves racing through him no longer allowed him to stay still.  “Will this even work?” “I think it’s worth a shot. Don’t you, Sev? And hey, I’m not even planning on going full on martyr this time. Dumbledore’s taking that role if it all goes to shit.” “What does that mean?” Severus found himself asking, heart sinking deeper into his stomach.“Well, okay, so I might kill Dumbledore if everything else fails.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Peter Pettigrew looked like shit. Then again, Aurelia supposed she too would look terrible had she been kept in confinement for a handful of years. Gone was the tubby boy seeking approval she’d known from her youth. Now, he looked like a drowned rat: scrawny and unkempt. His hairline was receding and it was clear he had forgone bathing for the day. Perhaps the week. Only Dumbledore had known his location after seventh year due to an anonymous tip he had received at the end of term. The old headmaster had learned of Pettigrew’s ties to Voldemort, the danger Pettigrew found himself in, and the danger he posed to others.
 
He had lived in this shack ever since. His friends didn’t even know how close they had come to being betrayed by the rat. 
 
He cowered in a corner when Aurelia entered, “Hello, Peter,” was all she needed to say to send him into a fit of wracking sobs.
 
“Please, please let me free. I swear to only serve you, Dumbledore. The Dark Lord is nothing. Let me prove it to you,

please.”

Aurelia cocked her head to the side,

Liar

she thought to herself. Their plan was… tenuous at best. Could it work? Certainly. But it required Pettigrew to lie, or at least tell a lie he believed to be the truth. She couldn’t very well have him showing up at Malfoy manor only to topple over in agony with even a sliver of information that could harm her. After all, that’s what the blood curse was for. He couldn’t betray her, not that

he

was aware of the curse once the memory was erased all those years ago. She felt their connection thrum in her veins, sickened at the thought of their souls entwined the way they were. She owned him, to a degree, and he had no idea.
 
No, Pettigrew would have to believe he was betraying her, betraying The Order, without actually having any damning information to give.

That

was the risk, should Voldemort sniff out their plan.

Not that he had the nose for such an act

she thought darkly to herself. Rewriting his memories would be no simple task, one that only the most skilled in mind magic could even hope to accomplish. Voldemort’s mental assault would pose another hurdle, whether the created memories could withstand such an attack was where Aurelia’s true apprehension landed. 
 
But that would come later, after she’d talked with the rat. After she ensured their bond was hidden to all but herself. 
 
“

Petrificus Totalus,”

she uttered, pointing her wand at the huddled form in the corner. She walked the few paces to his fallen form. He hadn’t really stood a chance. Wandless, incapable of shifting, wards preventing him from running off. She peered at him from above, taking in the details of his face: sparse hairs and bucked teeth, and sallow skin. He was the embodiment of what she imagined his soul was like. His appearance was fitting. Gods, he needed a shower.
 
She toed at him with her boot, forcing his body to roll. Once he was on his stomach, a simple

Diffindo,

sliced his shirt away from his back revealing an expanse of eczematous white flesh. Revealing spells showed nothing of the blood bond, and though his back showed proof of scarring, none of it was visible enough to display the runes once etched into his dermis. 
 
She didn’t even bother to erase the encounter from his mind. She’d be back soon enough.

Severus couldn’t help but shake his head at the plan Aurelia and the headmaster had laid at his feet. It was ridiculous. While Tom Riddle was rather full of himself, he couldn’t truly be so daft to believe

Peter Pettigrew

was capable of escaping wards Dumbledore himself supposedly set up without assuming a trap was underfoot. It was a fool’s errand and a death sentence for not only Pettigrew, but for he and Aurelia as well at this point.
 
“You expect me to recreate memories capable of enduring a Legillemency attack from the Dark Lord himself? This is your big plan?”
 
“Yep,” Aurelia said, grabbing his arm and dragging him towards the hearth. 
 
“It will work, Severus,” Albus added, still sitting in the velvet chair nearby. 
 
Severus wanted to hex the old man, or perhaps give him a swift smack upside the head. Either way, his hands itched to force Albus to see some sense. Aurelia was a lost cause for sensible actions, always had been. 
 
Before he could act on impulse, green flame engulfed the pair, and he was swept into a room he had never seen before. It smelled. The small space was overwhelming to the senses. Not only did the odor assault the nose, but the piles of objects - trash, knick knacks, old food - were a plague to the eyes, as was the man inhabiting the hovel. Surely Dumbledore hadn’t starved Pettigrew, or allowed him to dive into such disarray?
 
“Severus

please,”

the man begged from the hem of Severus’ robes. Was he kissing his boots? Severus could feel bile rising in his throat, as the powerful stench grew with Pettigrew’s closeness. 
 
Taking a step back sent Pettigrew grappling for balance, leaving him a sad pile on the ground. 
 
Aurelia turned to Severus, eyebrows raised, eyes giving nothing away, “He’s done all this himself. Dumbledore visits once a month to drop off supplies and ensure everything’s still secure.”
 
“Let’s just get this over with,” Severus said over the wailing from the form still slumped on the ground in front of him.

Pettigrew was promptly tied to a chair. Despite his misgivings, Severus set to work. The task itself sounded simple enough. Insert memories into Pettigrew’s consciousness. It was not, however, that simple. Not even the Dark Lord himself could craft something from nothing. Aurelia knew as much, had factored it into her scheming. 
 
The new memories would be orchestrated as such: Aurelia would transfigure her appearance to that of another Order member. She would converse with another “Order member:” a broom transfigured within an inch of its life to resemble a human being, and Pettigrew would overhear their interaction. Severus would knit the details, remove their arrival, sew the thought of escape further back into his psyche as well as the understanding of Dumbledore’s wavering wards due to his declining visits - another set of memories removed.
 
Aurelia was insane. She had to be to suggest this, to stake their lives on it. 
 
She returned to Severus looking decidedly male with a bushy mustache and stout frame, the only comedic relief in the whole ordeal, “Should I keep the mustache for later?” she asked with a wink.
 
He caught himself smirking and schooled his face into a sneer, “No. Go wait outside. The broom is beginning to walk away.”
 
“Oh shit!” she said, fleeing for the door.
 
With just himself and Pettigrew occupying the space, the room suddenly felt much too small, “You don’t have to do this, you know,” the man said in hushed tones. 
 
“I do,” was all Severus said before entering his mind, “

Legillimens

!”
 
Memories raced past, not a barrier in sight. He waded through Pettigrew’s consciousness as easily as a fish could swim in a lake. Severus might feel pity for the man had he been anyone else, and had his memories reflected anything but contemptuous desire to rule over others by any means necessary. His mind was dark albeit simple. Locating memories of Dumbledore’s visits were easy enough to uncover and shred, an understandably painful feat for Pettigrew. 
 
He withdrew from the man’s mind. Aurelia asked from the doorway whether he was ready for her to begin her charade. A brief tilt of his head indicated he was, and so she began.
 
“Word is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is holed up with the Malfoys. Dumbledore’s hoping he stays there for the time being while he works on hiding the prophecy at Hogwarts. You-Know-Who can’t hear it. It could mean the turn of the war,” said a gruff voice from outside.
 
“Does that mean we could finally be off babysitting duty? I’ve had my fill after these years,” said another voice.
 
The first voice belted out a laugh, “I hope so. The weasel’s more trouble than he’s worth. Can’t even pick up after himself. Bet he doesn’t even remember how to hold a wand at this point.” The figure took a step inside, dangling a wand tauntingly at Pettigrew. Severus undid his bindings, allowing Pettigrew to grab at the wand. Severus petrified him again, and as he slumped, Severus took up residence behind him. With his own wand, he cast a stupefy at both the transfigured Aurelia and at her companion, sending them crashing into the nearby walls. 
 
She coughed from afar, “I think that’ll do for a good runaway memory, don’t you?” she asked.
 
“Let us hope.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was a waiting game. Only a few trusted Order members were made aware of the plan, against the wishes of both Severus and Lia alike. Dumbledore, ever the secret-keeper, insisted the rest remained in the dark. Whether the Dark Lord would arrive to slaughter them all on sight, or come during the cover of darkness to secure the prophecy was still undecided. A waiting game. Severus Snape hated waiting. Hated the uncertainty that hung thickly in the air around them as they gathered on the rolling grounds to stage their attack. Most of all, he hated that Aurelia was there too, though she wouldn’t be caught anywhere else tonight. 
 
So here they stood, wands held loosely in their hands as they waited, and waited and waited. There was something he should say to Lia - a ‘just in case’ of some sort. To remind her how much he loved her, how deeply he yearned for so much more time with her. Yet he couldn’t. Professing something so profound would only solidify the piss-poor odds they stood against.
 
As though she knew precisely what plagued his mind, she slipped her cool hand into his. Standing side-by-side is where they found themselves when the first of the Death Eaters arrived. Those on the grounds were hidden - by cloak, or potion, or spellwork, they remained unseen. They were meant to watch. To lay in wait for the greater prize should he actually show up.
 
Severus squeezed Aurelia’s hand, indicating he would begin to follow their new arrivals. Her hand slipped from his grip, and he wondered if it would be the last time he would feel her touch.

This is a death sentence

he thought to himself. 
 
Their plan to trap Tom was relatively simple. Difficult, time-consuming, taxing, but simple. All they needed to do was lure him to the right spot and all of this would be over. The runes salted into the earth, and the remnants of his other Horcruxes would ensure it. Runic symbols and Druidic ceremonies: simple. Getting the Dark Lord to step foot in a relatively small portion of land was less so. 
 
A bright light shone from the direction of the spot: Dumbledore taking his place. The Death Eaters shifted direction, like moths drawn to flame. Were they so easily tricked? Would their leader be?
 
The elder wizard stood solitary in a clearing beyond the castle walls, ensconced in bright light, what would appear to the Death Eaters to be the beginnings of a powerful warding. It was, in fact, simply

Lumos Maxima

cast with the added help of magelight. Really and truly a trick of the light. Severus felt his stomach drop yet again this evening, disbelief clouding his thoughts. That the Dark Lord would fall victim to something as simple as a magician's tricks. If it had truly been this simple all along, why hadn’t they attempted to stop him with force before now? How many had been lost because Dumbledore refused to take action?
 
A slice of heat radiated through him at the thought. His anger quickly dissipated when he sensed more arrivals. They flanked him wordlessly, his presence still unknown among the black cloaks and masks that shuffled around him. Fear replaced his anger, cold and dark, and he glanced around for Aurelia, despite knowing she too would be shrouded and unseen. 
 
There were not enough of them. The few made privy to the plan could not withstand the forces they would soon be up against. Capturing the Dark Lord would be but an afterthought if they could survive the onslaught of the dark figures that continued to swarm from beyond the borders of Hogwarts’ grounds. Even delving into dark magic would not be enough. Aurelia and her fire would not be enough. 
 
On a cloud of billowing smoke he arrived. Silent was his entry to the Hogwarts hills, and yet his presence was felt by all those around him. A hollow coldness sapped at Severus. It was all he could do not to gasp as the feeling overcame him so suddenly. The Dark Lord’s first steps onto the grassy earth landed just two meters shy of where they needed him.
 
Something cracked within his very being when Severus caught sight of Aurelia, phantasmal at first, then all at once there. Her figure was illuminated by the magelight, her stony visage flickering in and out of focus as the light shifted and cast shadows all around her. This was all part of the plan. A contingency of sorts, though they’d suspected it would need to happen. 
 
Tom was drawn to her, a cheshire grin spreading wide across his snakeline face “My, Aurelia, what have we here?” he asked with a hiss. 
 
“You didn’t think Pettigrew could escape on his own, did you?”
 
A flicker of something flashed across the man’s face. Surprise? Anger? 
 
“Ah, so you’ve gifted me a rat. How very kind of you,” he replied in a mocking tone. 
 
“I didn’t think you’d be so upset about witnessing Dumbledore’s death,” said Lia, cooly, “It wasn’t

just

Pettigrew that showed up at Lucius’ doorstep. You got an invitation too,” she continued, gesturing at the old man, still seemingly oblivious to his audience. 
 
Voldemort seemed to consider that for a moment, “I believe I asked you to kill him in front of the Order. An insurance policy that you remain loyal to me,” he said icily.
 
Aurelia rolled her eyes, and Severus found his breath hitching, “Do you even clock your surroundings? Look,” the firedrake said, again gesturing afar. 
 
There, flanking Dumbledore stood Minerva, James, Sirius and Lupin. Why Dumbledore thought inviting the Marauders here this evening was beyond Severus. In all likelihood their estranged friend would make an appearance, and what then? 
 
Tom took a few steps towards the Order members before him, eyes fixed on the glowing Dumbledore, “Liar,” was all he said before casting a curse towards the headmaster. The bespectacled man had anticipated the attack. Voldemort shot a second curse towards Aurelia, who wordlessly sidestepped the red jet of light directed at her. 
 
“Jesus, Tom. You couldn’t just follow the fucking plan?” she said, continuing to duck away from his attacks.
 
Severus petrified the few Death Eaters he was surrounded by, dropping his disillusionment charm after-the-fact, it would waste too much of his energy in this skirmish. The five Order members seemed to understand the shift, quickly focusing their attention on the mass of Death Eaters that had found their way around them all. 
 
Voldemort, it seemed, had lost interest in Aurelia, aiming his wand back towards Dumbledore. The two circled one another from afar, like members of an intricate dance. Each spell that shot from Voldemort’s wand was met with a jet of light from Dumbledore’s, shifting a curse into something else entirely. Voldemort’s attacks became more frenzied, jets of reds, and blues, and greens all found their way to Dumbledore, but fell away with a simple wave of the old man’s wand.
 
Severus made his way to Aurelia, finding she had quickly become outnumbered. Her flames licked around her, and while those that stepped too close to her were soon enough reduced to ash, he could tell her energy was waning. She had expended a great deal of it already on their trap. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to stand let alone wield a wand properly.

How many Death Eaters

were

there?

Severus thought frantically as he cast spell after spell around him. There seemed to be a neverending line of them. All keeping him from Aurelia and her dying fire.

A cry of anguish shattered the night air, louder than the crash of curses or the heavy breathing surrounding them. Severus found his attention strayed from Aurelia, and fell instead on the headmaster. 
 
His usually tall and stalwart form was kneeled, hunched over. Silence permeated the space. Death Eater and Order member alike were shocked at the sight. It was clear that Tom had not fired the curse that left the man debilitated as he too stood in surprised silence, wand still outstretched. A masked Death Eater stalked closer, ebony wand raised. 
 
Voldemort wordlessly cast a killing curse at the witch or wizard. Their crumpled frame fell just shy of Dumbledore’s own heaving body. Tom circled the bent body of Albus Dumbledore, a cat taunting its prey, his back now turned to Minerva and James, as his position had shifted during the fight. Aurelia, fire gone, attempted to make her way towards them. She hit the ground hard as her legs gave way.
 
As if in slow motion a figure darkened the sky, dropping a parcel on the ground directly at Minerva’s feet. As the older witch bent to investigate the object, Tom made his advance. And so it was with their attentions turned to the Dark Lord that their fate was sealed. It wasn’t until the gleaming metal shone in the moonlight that Severus finally realized what Minerva held. And a half-second later that Aurelia realized the same.
 
“Minerva, NO,” the firedrake roared as the sword of Gryffindor sliced through the pale neck of the Dark Lord.
 
His red eyes still glowed as his head hit the ground. His body followed only a moment later.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Grass tickled the space between her fingers, nails digging into the earth beneath her - grasping for purchase; grasping for reassurance, some sign that this was not the reality that befell her. But the dirt felt too real, the fatigue too familiar to be some dark nightmare. Aurelia hardly noticed the strong arms that wrapped around her. In a daze, her feet grappled to hold her weight as she was shifted upwards.
 
Unfocused eyes fell on the dark curtain of hair above her - Severus. His eyes were wild, full of fear. Then it registered: though the Dark Lord had fallen, his followers had not. Metal masks reflected what little moonlight shone through the clouds in the sky. Neither party could apparate to safety. 
 
“Why the fuck did Dumbledore only send for a

handful

of us?” she found herself shouting as her feet found stability.
 
The only indication that Severus had heard her was the thinning of his lips as they pressed tightly together, and the slight shaking of his head. He didn’t know what to do either, it seemed. She cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders back in preparation for the fight likely to resume. Many had begun to flee, but enough still remained. Wands were raised all around, save for Minerva who still gripped the sword of Gryffindor tightly in her hands. 
 
There were too many of them, and too few of the Order left with Dumbledore still incapacitated. Their runic circle would do nothing to aid them in this fight, as its intended prisoner lay headless still a few feet away. 
 
Most remained nameless, hidden by masks and the cover of darkness, but one faithful servant of the Dark Lord became readily apparent as her shrieks filled the night. Bellatrix Lestrange, with her wild hair and cruel face howled as she cradled the now decapitated head of Tom Riddle. Her cries seemed to stir the others into action. 
 
Severus pushed himself in front of Aurelia, guarding her from the onslaught of curses directed their way. Had she any remaining strength, she might have pushed back against him, insisting she was here to protect him - not the other way around. As it was, her legs shook, finally giving out. She found herself kneeling on the cold earth - a similar position to that of the headmaster - when she caught the sight of green light barreling towards her. Severus’ attention was fixed elsewhere, shielding them from the attacks of three other Death Eaters in the opposite direction. He turned his head a fraction of an inch, too late to do anything but watch in horror as the curse carried on its path to connect with Aurelia’s chest.
 
Aurelia closed her eyes. The sounds of the battle - shouts of spellcasting, the crashing of magic, cries of pain - dulled to a low hum as she accepted her fate. 
 
Too long. The curse should have connected by now.

Am I dead?

She cracked an eyelid open, face to face with the green jet, frozen in time. All of it was frozen, save for her and one other. Air left her lungs as he stepped towards her kneeling form. When he was but a foot away he crouched, leveling his face with hers. 
 
He was the same as he always had been. His silver hair, cropped close to his scalp on either side, long tendrils pushed back on top. His eyes met hers, the thin barrier of his glasses shielding her from his scrutiny. The hairs in his graying beard moved ever-so-slightly at the steady ticking in his jaw - the only clue to his underlying rage as the rest of his face remained placid.
 
She supposed she’d learned a great deal from him in that regard - and so she looked back at him with the same bored apathy he directed at her. The scent of his magic filled her nostrils, and she fought to keep her face unmoving as the smell of ice, and herbs, and pain met her senses.
 
His own nostrils flared as he drew in a deep breath, “Now, now, Aurelia,” he tutted, “What kind of mess have you found yourself in?” he huffed at her. The low rumble of his voice reverberated within her, as though her very cells quaked in fear at his closeness.
 
She swallowed hard, “Lachesis. It’s been awhile.”

When Aurelia had kidnapped Sybil Trelawney, she had assumed the soothsayer’s prophecy would remain the same:  “

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him,born as the seventh month dies… and the dark lord will mark him as his equal but he will have the power the dark lord knows not and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”

But such a prophecy did not come to be. Sybil Trelawney, captured and yet surprisingly high in spirits told a different prophecy altogether. As she sat across from the firedrake, enjoying her tea and diving into a rather boring story about the effectiveness of reading tea leaves, her voice changed. A deep rasping echoed from her lips as her eyes glazed, seeming to watch a scene unfold that the firedrake could not see.
 
“

Only when the serpent and dragon are entwined will the power to vanquish the Dark Lord come to be. The frost will settle across the grounds, and all will seem lost. Fire will fade to ash as the weaver designs their path. The Dark Lord will fall for the first time, only to be reborn anew from the fragments of his past, those still left secret. He will rise as the frost melts, knowing not of the power bestowed upon those that defy him.

”
 
Aurelia had sat dumbfounded across from the witch as her nonsensical prophecy came to be. As she had suspected, the witch had no recollection of the incident directly afterwards, instead insisting on a lozenge before continuing to dump tea leaf information onto Aurelia’s unhearing ears. 
 
Whatever she had changed in this timeline had altered Fate so deeply, that Harry Potter wasn’t even capable becoming "The boy who lived". Voldemort could still rise to power, and it was clear from the prophetic pseudonyms of serpent and dragon that she and Severus would play a large part in his downfall should it come to be, and yet she was left empty-handed as she wracked her brain for what kind of power could be created from her reunion with Severus. 
 
For months afterwards, Aurelia had agonized over the prophecy. Even after she laid herself bare to Severus, telling him the secrets of her life, she had kept the prophecy to herself. Only now, as she stared at the Weaver in front of her did she understand that this was just the beginning for her, that the frozen jet of green mere inches from her chest would not kill her. At least not today.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Severus whipped his head to face her, the clambering against his chest a manifestation of the fear etched in his mind. She was dead, he was certain of it. The sound of spellcasting had fallen away, the ringing silence in his ears must be the fear as well. And yet, there she kneeled. Alive. Impossible. He had seen the spark of green barreling towards her, incapable of moving quickly enough to do anything helpful. 
 
He rounded back to face his foes once again, only to find the clearing absent of their dark cloaks and foreboding masks. They were all gone, even Bellatrix bent over the Dark Lord as she’d been, they had disappeared. Apparating was impossible on Hogwarts grounds, unless you were granted the privileges of being headmaster. How they escaped so suddenly was beyond him. Turning, he assessed Aurelia. She was still, eyes hollow, jaw tight.
 
She knew something. As usual, the acknowledgment of such caused both a rush of pride and a tightening around his heart. His movements were swift as he knelt, eyes level with hers, as unseeing as they appeared to be. Her eyes moved to meet his once his hand wrapped around one of hers. The irises were a dulled hue he couldn’t make out in the darkness of the grounds. Whatever she knew did not bode well for them, that much was clear.
 
“Lia-” he began before a voice called from the other side of the clearing.
 
James Potter and his impeccable timing. Lia stood shakily, eyes still seeing a glimpse of something entirely undefined to Severus. He watched as her head turned to what was left of the Marauders. Had they been promised a meeting with Pettigrew? Where was the rat, now?
 
Aurelia leaned heavily into Severus as they slowly made their way to the group of Order members, their small collection of reinforcements. How any of them were left standing still a mystery hanging in the air. Albus was surrounded, his frame still crumpled into a kneeling position, hunched and clutching at himself. 
 
Severus deposited Aurelia next to the old man on the ground, kneeling himself to assess the damage between the two of them. Likely, Aurelia simply suffered from fatigue and probably shock to boot. Albus was more of a mystery, his ailment unclear without a diagnostic charm. Wordlessly, he waved his wand at the headmaster, revealing the curse bubbling below the surface of his skin. Death Eaters had gotten cleverer and cleverer as the war raged on, this curse and all its creativity shocked the potions master to his core. A medley of

Petrificus Totalus, Diffindo

and

Furnunculus

jinx all met at once, warring with the wizard’s insides. He couldn’t even scream.
 
Now he could see it, the telltale bubbling of boils along his pale arms and face, half-moon spectacles askew on his crooked nose. A boils-cure potion could help the batch of cysts laying waste, but he would need more intensive care for the internal damage caused by the slicing aspect of this curse, bleeding internally as he was. He felt his teeth clench, jaw tightening as he looked around at the others. Each of them staring back intently, waiting for Severus to take charge. It would have been comical to see the Marauders looking at him like this in any other scenario, he supposed. Now, it was simply infuriating.
 
“If any of you wish to do something useful, you will go and fetch Madam Pomfrrey before the headmaster meets an untimely end right here on the grounds,” he bit out. 
 
James seemed to come to his senses first, shaking his head as though he’d been in a trance. He held his hand up to catch a quickly-arriving broom,

acciod

silently. As he departed without a word, the others seemed to come to their senses as well. 
 
Minerva looked at the decapitated head of Tom Riddle and promptly vomited atop it. Remus and Sirius whispered silently to one another. And Lia began to laugh.
 
Severus felt his head turn in slow motion, black hair swishing across his forehead as his gaze finally landed on her prone and shaking form. Free of mirth, and entirely full of disbelief, it filled the night. 
 
“We are so absolutely fucked,” she called between gasping barks of laughter.
 
The rest of them shared a worried glance between themselves. Sirius looked ready to say something, but was inevitably cut off with the arrival of a confused Poppy Pomfrey. She was still in her night clothes.

Where had keeping everyone in the dark gotten you, old man?

Severus thought, shaking his head as he returned his attention to Albus. 
 
He was soon loaded onto a floating cot and escorted back within the walls of the castle, Poppy casting a few of her own spells on the man to lessen the pain and reduce the damage inflicted within him. The rest of them were left in a circle of uncertainty.
 
Sirius finally broke the silence, pushing a pleading Remus off of him. Clearly Lupin had been attempting to keep the dog under control, “Oi. Where the hell is my brother? And Peter, too. Dumbledore said they would be here. He said we could talk to them.”
 
Severus pressed his lips together, forming a tight line. Lia’s laughter echoed louder, more frantically. Sirius’ face contorted to indisputable rage and confusion at her continued outburst. His gaze fell on Severus, expectant. They all looked expectantly at him, as though he should know the answer, as though he was the one responsible for the promises broken that evening. One by one he met the eyes of the present Marauders. He opened his mouth to respond. Lia beat him.
 
“Your brother is dead,” she choked out, laughter dying as the words tumbled from her quivering lips. Only now did Severus see the tears trailing from her eyes to the ground beneath her as she lay, “And Pettigrew is a Death Eater. And we are all fucked,” she finished.

She lay on her back a moment longer, teeth worrying the inside of her cheek. She rolled over as the others stared at her in disbelief.
 
“Reg isn’t dead,” Sirius said, defiantly jutting his chin out at her as he said it.
 
Remus placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, squeezing it gently as Sirius shook his head.
 
“He died so we could kill Voldemort,” Lia said, ignoring their flinches at her use of Tom’s chosen name, “And we couldn’t even do that right.”
 
James interrupted Sirius’ continued questioning with his own, “What do you mean,” he asked, gesturing to Tom’s corpse a few feet away, the acidic smell of Minerva’s vomit wafting towards them with a shift in the wind as though to solidify the man’s point.
 
Lia just shook her head in response, unable or unwilling to spill it all.
 
“He is not gone completely. There is more of him out there,” Severus clarified for her.
 
James scoffed in disbelief, “Right, he can survive his

head

being chopped off.”
 
Severus felt his features darken into something formidable. James took a step back as though struck. Severus stood to his full height, striding towards Potter, looming over him. 
 
“Live in the fantasy that His failure here tonight is this war’s finality, but you

will

watch him return if we do nothing,” he spat. 
 
A hand brushed against his arm as he stood seething in front of his childhood bully. Lia. 
 
“We should go,” she whispered to him. Louder, “Meet at the Diagon Alley safe house. We’ll debrief there tomorrow,” she said to the rest of them, “We need to make a plan.”
 
They turned to depart, whether for their rooms in the castle or Severus’ loft away from Hogwarts, he had no idea. A voice called once more while their steps carried them away.
 
“Where’s my brother?

Please

where’s Reg? He can’t be dead,” Sirius sobbed behind them.
 
Lia did not turn around. Her grip merely tightened around Severus’ arm, silent tears tracking down her cheeks once more as the distance between the duo and the Marauders lengthened; the echoing sound of Sirius’ pleas slowly dying with every step away.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Was she no better than Dumbledore when it came to deciding the fates of those around her? It’s what Lachesis had alluded to in their brief encounter while time ceased to spin. Had she allowed others to help her, would they not be done with the War? She could have let them know about the Horcruxes years earlier, still keeping her role as Severus’ Epoch secret. Yet, she had attempted to track them all herself, failing in the process. Getting Regulus killed in the process.
 
Sirius’ cries still rang in her ears even now, as they were sequestered in her rooms within the castle. She had decided for them all, and now they were paying the price for her choices. They hadn’t much time left. Lachesis had made that abundantly clear as he held her chin between his fingers, glasses reflecting her own startled expression back at her. She should have known that only

he

would decide when she no longer served a purpose for him, for The Council.
 
“Time is ticking for you, Aurelia. You have not the luxury of wasting any more of it,” he had said.
 
And with a snap of his fingers the Death Eaters had disappeared, taking with them the spells they had been in the middle of casting. Where they went, she didn’t know. Yet another mystery she would have to uncover in the coming days, alongside the location of the remaining Horcrux. 
 
She was snapped out of her ruminations by the gentle glide of Severus’ hand along her spine. It wasn’t his usual caress, but one of a trained medic. He was making sure she wasn’t hurt. Her heart clenched. Had she utterly failed him?
 
His hands cupped her face then, brushing the remnants of her tears, pads of his fingers brushing along the tracks that traced her cheeks. She leaned into his contact, the only reassurance that would matter to her right now. No words could quell the waves of fear and guilt and shame that continued to wash over her, but she could lose herself, if but for a moment, in the luxury of his touch. 
 
His lips brushed hers, tentative, a question. She responded in full, opening herself up to him. He was gentle, holding her as though she were made of glass. Everything else seemed to drift away as their tongues roved over one another. Her hands slid to his chest, feeling his heart hammering against his ribs, despite their unhurried exploration of one another. They stayed locked in their embrace, both too fatigued to delve further.
 
Severus finally pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. She moved a hand to brush her fingers through his hair, perhaps more soothing for her than it was for him. Had they said a word to one another since leaving the grounds?
 
After a time, he drew back further. His dark eyes moved between her own. She wondered what they must look like at a time like this, so defeated as she was. Were they gray? Was her fire still there? He seemed to be searching for an answer, likely ‘What the hell happened out there?’ but she hesitated. Again. She

would

tell him. Just not tonight. 
 
His lips pursed, coming to the same conclusion. A singular tick in his jaw the only other indication of his dislike for the conversation being deterred another moment. Instead, he stood. Slowly he pulled her alongside him towards her bedroom. Fully clothed, they fell onto the bed, not even bothering to bury themselves beneath the covers. 
 
She had expected sleep to evade them both, but she was quickly pulled under. 
 
Aurelia woke from her, thankfully, dreamless sleep to Severus stroking her hair. So parallel to her ministrations the night before. She turned to face him, and his fingers paused, still tangled in her hair. His eyes were yet again filled with the same searching question, and something else. He freed his hand, ghosting his fingers across her cheek, and landing on her bottom lip. Desire pooled in her stomach. 
 
She swung her leg over his hips, straddling him, hands fisting the dark waves of his hair. They wasted no time. He bunched her robes up to her hips as she undid his trousers, freeing his length from the placket that separated them. His hand slipped between them, and he was quickly buried to the hilt. Fingers dug at her hips, the pressure still sharp even with the added layers of fabric. A sharp cry escaped her lips, inhaled by Severus as he sat upright, an arm wrapped around her hips, a hand fisted in her hair as he drove into her. 
 
Teeth scraped her bottom lip, then her neck, as he set a dizzying pace beneath her. He pulled her impossibly closer, rocking into her as her hips met his. His ragged breath puffed against her ear. Her nails dug into his shoulders, every drive bringing her closer to the brink. Hands tightened their grip on her as she clenched around him. His pace increased maddeningly, as he chased her climax, slamming her hips down onto him as he arrived. 
 
They rested their foreheads together. Breath intermingled, she hoped, not for the first time, that they would get the chance to do this without the precursor of a battle. 
 
As he softened, and their breathing steadied, he spoke, “What the hell happened out there?”
 
Her eyes met his, and she told him of Lachesis, and his warning. They were out of time. He was nearly out of second chances. A tap on the window startled them out of their reverie. An owl. 
 
The Daily Prophet, it seemed, was somewhat privy to last night’s developments. Evidently, the remaining Death Eaters had all miraculously been disapparated to Azkaban, in the middle of the night, and were now awaiting trial. News of Voldemort’s downfall was cause for celebration among the wizarding community.
 
Their festivities did nothing to quell the dread left stagnant in Aurelia’s gut. If the Death Eaters were taken care of, maybe they could gain entrance to their vaults. She asked Severus as much. He shrugged in response.
 
“It wouldn’t hurt to check on Albus’ condition. See if he has any pull with the goblins. Incarceration does not typically make vaults accessible. The goblins have a code of their own. Our governing body does not overlap with theirs.”
 
The journal was less of a priority, given they knew its whereabouts. It was unlikely to be removed from Malfoy Manor, with Malfoy senior sitting in a cell in the middle of the sea. They righted themselves, volleying plans back and forth between turns to wash their faces. Still wearing their robes from the previous night, they made their way to the hospital wing.
 
A lone figure took residence in the hall. Covered by a clinically white sheet, Albus lay prone and asleep. The pair exchanged glances, deciding whether to risk waking him. 
 
“I am old, but I am not deaf, yet. You may speak,” the man said softly, eyes still closed.
 
He looked odd without his signature attire. No intricately detailed robes adorned his body. His spectacles lay on the table beside him, somehow making his nose appear even more misshapen. No smile ghosted his pale lips. Devoid of his characteristic pleasantries left him somehow older, vulnerable.
 
“We need in the Lestrange vault. I trust someone has informed you of the arrests made last night after Tom fell,” Severus began.
 
“Ah yes, the final pieces left behind after our plan met its demise,” Dumbledore responded, “I cannot guarantee the goblins will listen, but I believe they too wish for this war to truly be finished.”
 
He detailed a plan for them, surprisingly much less elusive in his schemes laying in his hospital gown. As the pair made to exit the wing, sights set on Gringotts, he cleared his throat. Stopping in their tracks, they waited for some last minute parable to be imparted on them before they left.
 
“I am sorry,” he said instead. Voice withered with time and fatigue, his sentiment still slammed into them like a

Bombarda

to the chest. Albus Dumbledore did not apologize, he lorded his knowledge and kept it locked away like a Sphinx to a treasure, “I did not realize…” he trailed off.
 
Aurelia swallowed her retort, still pained from the parallels Lachesis had pointed out to her the night previous. For all that she despised the man’s decision to keep The Order’s secrets solely to himself, letting only crumbs of important information free, she could not help but see the similarities between them. Their stubborn pride had gotten people killed. 
 
She turned on her heel and exited the hospital wing, barely registering Severus following suit behind her.

The ministry was in full uproar, sweeping through Diagon Alley as they arrived at Fortescue's by Floo. Rarely had Aurelia stepped foot into the magical menagerie, opting instead to gather resources from her networks on the continent during their time at school. It was off-limits in her time away for fear of running into Severus before she had any real answers to give him. 
 
Celebrations accosted the pair as they wound past shop after shop filled to the brim with excitable witches and wizards, all completely unaware that the war’s true end had not yet arrived. The cheer all around made Severus and Aurelia appear out of sorts. The demeanor of the goblins was a welcome change from the merriment beyond the marble walls. 
 
Her shoes clicked against the stone floor, Severus’ steps much more muffled. Still, heads shot up as they made their way down the goblin-lined entry, seeking one such goblin in particular. Griphook sat perched in his chair, facing the bank’s entry-point, black hair combed back, long fingers clasped in front of him as he tilted his head, awaiting their arrival before him.
 
“Are you Griphook?” Aurelia asked.
 
The goblin blinked at her before responding, “I had wondered how long your kind would wait to ask for help,” he said as a way of greeting. Aurelia supposed the directness was something she could respect. After all, she had done away with pleasantries herself, hadn’t she?
 
“My kind?” she asked, tilting her head to mimic his own movements.
 
“Those of the wizarding-world have long forgotten the likes of us

lesser

magical creatures,” he said with a sneer.
 
“Too right,” she said. It seemed to shock the goblin. His black eyes searched her own for a moment, before she continued, “I wonder if we might have an audience with you. Privately.”
 
“Very well,” he said, before his head disappeared behind the wooden desk he was seated at. Footsteps could be heard, and after a moment, he reappeared beside them, hands clasped behind his back this time.
 
They followed him into a private office behind a set of desks. Aurelia distinctly ignored the weight of goblin gazes that fell on her back as she walked behind Griphook. Severus followed suit, evidenced by the soft

tap

on the floor behind her. 
 
Griphook sat in the chair behind the desk, gesturing for Aurelia and Severus to sit in the chairs before him. He made no sound, no attempts for small talk, nor comments on current world affairs. She had the sneaking suspicion he knew the war was not won.
 
“We have a proposition for you,” Severus said. Aurelia glanced at him. His face was serene. No, that wasn’t it. Determined, maybe. His long nose jutted out from the angle at which she assessed him, his strong jaw was grazed by the frock of his coat. She much preferred him without his adorned armor, in a T-shirt from a nonmagical shop. She wanted nothing more than to spend a morning with him, basking in the early sun, listening to him hum along to one of the many songs she’d forced him to listen to despite his protestations. She wondered if such a time would ever grace her. 
 
Griphook cleared his throat, clearly waiting for Aurelia to respond. Caught up as she was in her thoughts, she’d allowed his sentiments to fall on deaf ears. She felt her brows knit together of their own volition.
 
“We need in a vault,” figuring bluntness might aid in breezing past her inattentiveness.
 
“Do you have a key?” Griphook asked.
 
Aha! She figured correctly, it seemed, “No. We have something better. Something we think you might want far more than the patronage of an incarcerated individual unlikely to ever access their vaults again.”
 
He merely blinked back, waiting.
 
“We wish to return a goblin-made artifact in exchange,” Severus offered.
 
That seemed to stun the goblin for the first time since their encounter began. His eyes narrowed, as he glanced between them both.
 
“Which vault?”
 
“The Lestrange vault,” Severus replied.
 
“Impossible,” Griphook replied almost immediately.
 
“Is that so?” Aurelia asked, “I thought it might be in your best interest to ensure that Tom Riddle’s reign comes to an end.”
 
“Tom Riddle is dead.”
 
“I think we both know that’s not the case,” she offered.
 
The goblin regarded her for a moment longer before deciding on his reply, “Which artifact do you have in your possession?” he asked.
 
It seemed the long-lost helm and its accompanying dagger were enough to sway the Goblin’s hard-pressed promises to uphold the sanctity of the Lestrange’s vault. She couldn’t very well blame him, could she? What did he owe the wizarding world after all these years? They offered the dagger for entry to the vault, keeping the helm as a means for ensuring an exit from the vault, lest they get trapped. 
 
The winding of the bank cart made her sick, mind swaying as her stomach flipped with every turn and drop it seemed to make in the cavernous space below. Waterfalls, dragons, drop offs seemed to meet them more frequently the further they wound into the earth. Finally, they stopped in front of an ancient-looking vault door. 
 
Griphook’s caress was enough to leave the entry swinging open upon their approach. What met them beyond the heavy door was enough to steal Aurelia’s breath. Severus, too, seemed in awe of what lay before them: impossible stacks of galleons, immemorial artifacts, grimoires so old their yellowed pages likely no longer displayed writing. And there, atop a stack of time-worn tomes sat the cup of Hufflepuff.
 
Severus plucked a basilisk fang from within his robes as he approached the cursed object before them. Ill-intent seemed to fill their lungs, fogging their minds with every step. A bead of sweat slid from his temple as he approached.
 
“Severus,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, “I can do it if you don’t want to.”
 
As if to answer, he brought his arm down on the cup, splitting it in two. A burst of black smoke escaped it, bringing the cries of something otherworldly with it. Severus frowned, “Is that it?”
 
A small smile graced her lips, “Finding it was the hardest part. Destroying it, not so much.”
 
They moved to exit the vault, passage blocked by a surprisingly formidable-looking Griphook.
 
“The helm, now,” he insisted, hand outstretched.
 
“Once we’re above ground,” Aurelia said, with a roll of her eyes.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Malfoy estate was cold. Much colder than he remembered from the few days that had passed since he had last stepped foot across the threshold of the long-standing manor. Gone were the sentinels stationed outside of the gates, leaving the place unguarded for such an entry as theirs. They had but one Horcrux left to destroy, and here it stayed within the confines of this place.
 
Lucius was gone, locked away with the others unfortunate enough to have been on Hogwarts grounds that night before. Narcissa remained, along with their child, Draco. He briefly wondered how the two would fare with Lucius behind bars, whether they would suffer for his participation in the Dark Lord’s rise to power. He banished the concern the deeper he and Aurelia stepped into the residence.
 
Gods, it was cold. The biting ice of it sliced through even the warming charms he cast on himself and Aurelia. She shivered beside him, breath fogging the space before her. They shared a concerned glance, uncertainty staining their previously good mood. They had assumed the journal would be relatively safe remaining in the confines of Malfoy estate while they ventured to the Vaults in London. Such a miscalculation could cost them everything.
 
A noise sounded from the floor above, towards the direction of where Aurelia had pinned down the journal’s location in their original visit together. Severus climbed the stairs first, Aurelia padding quietly behind, leaving her shoes at the open door to muffle her steps despite the bitter cold of the stone beneath her uncovered feet. 
 
Mumbling filled the halls before them. Dread filled Severus’ steadily-beating heart. He hoped Narcissa would choose to avoid a fight. He hoped she would hand the journal over, and allow them to depart as quickly as they had arrived.
 
He hoped for entirely too much. Doors lined the hallway they found themselves met with upon the landing. Many of them were closed, clearly locked from the additional enchantments radiating off of them. Only one was open, casting a hazy light into the otherwise darkened hall. Wands were held out before them, extensions of their arms, as they peered into the open door.
 
Severus had but a single glimpse of Narcissa, fallen on the floor before a wall lined with weathered tomes, before the curse hit him from across the room. His body slammed into Aurelia who had followed closely behind. The two were knocked prone, Severus dizzied, as a figure stepped from behind the door.
 
Narcissa’s wand was held loosely in his hand, as though its magic sickened its wielder. A youngish boy with sharp features stepped into the light of the glowing orb floating overhead. His face seemed vaguely familiar to Severus. He struggled with the thought as he attempted to right himself.

Who the fuck was this?

“Oh. Come. ON,” Lia called from underneath his weight.
 
“You,” the young man said, voice smooth as silk. His attention on Aurelia was like a caress, quiet and firm. His steps were sure as he walked closer to the pair of them still tumbled on the floor.
 
“Sev,

get up,”

she said, pushing hard against his ribs, legs flailing to gain purchase. What sort of spell had hit him? He felt like he’d been

confunded.

Before he could heed her instruction, fire lit his veins. Writhing on the floor he watched the man approach Aurelia, scrabbling as she was on the ground. Narcissa’s wand pointed at her as he loomed above, menacing yet delicate. 
 
“You really just don’t die, do you, Tom?” Aurelia spat.

Tom? Tom Riddle?

Pain spiked through him as the thought threaded through his mind. He felt his body contort of its own volition, arching his spine as though his nerves were attempting to avoid the onslaught of torture that ripped through him.
 
“You nearly cost me everything,” the man said, so quiet Severus almost couldn’t discern it through the pounding in his ears, “Some sort of half-breed thinks she can eliminate me, even after the chances I gave her,” he scoffed.
 
“Oh, shut the fuck up. You’re daddy was a muggle you asshole,” Aurelia retorted as she tossed an

expelliarmus

at the man. His deflection was enough to break the concentration required for his

cruciatus.

Severus rolled over, crawling away to gain his footing. He was met with a different sort of torture: instead of fire in his veins he felt his skin slowly peeling away from itself. It was as though his bones and muscle refused to hold onto the casing around him any longer. It started at his fingertips, splitting away his flesh slowly.
 
It was a curse Riddle needn’t concentrate on. Tom Riddle reincarnated, the recognition finally reached Severus’ addled mind despite the pain he found himself enduring. What had become of Narcissa in the matter of it all, Severus couldn’t fathom. He clutched at his hands, refusing the bark of agony that threatened to pass through his lips as flesh was torn away from bone, and blood spilled into the darkened hallway.
 
Aurelia. He had to help Aurelia. He felt drunk with the pain of it all as he forced himself to stand, woozy and faltering in his footsteps. The Dark Lord had averted his attention to his firedrake, in the midst of some sort of monologue, Severus supposed. Too ensconced in his own words that he didn’t even notice Severus’ tackle until it was too late.

Tom Riddle was pinned beneath Severus’ flaying and bloodied form, as Aurelia gained her footing. 
 
“Absolutely fuck you, dude,” she said as she pointed her wand at The Dark Lord’s younger visage. Green light exploded from the tip of her redwood wand. She retrieved the basilisk fang from Severus’ robes, making her way into the room in which Narcissa still lay motionless. Aurelia stabbed the book splayed out before her, once, twice, three times as blackened blood gurgled up from its blank pages.
 Aurelia stood, triumphant over the quickly-fading remnant of Tom Riddle. Severus couldn't help but admire the fire in her eyes. The power there stole his attention more than the pain ever could. His firedrake. His witch. Breath caught in his throat as he looked at her, whether from his hammering heart and its inability to continue pumping without its necessary blood-supply, or the sheer enchantment of her gaze upon him, he didn't know. 
Another ethereal scream filled the space. It was the last thing Severus heard as he faded into unconsciousness.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Warm light flooded the space beyond his lidded eyes, like the glow of a fire or an early-morning sunrise. He still couldn’t muster the strength to open his eyes. Voices met his ears next.  They spoke of curses broken, and those that still endured.

Me

he thought in his muffled mind.

They speak of me.

And he drifted again. Voices would creep into his psyche, still too damaged to identify their sources. Countless times he found himself just short of wrenching his lids open, only to be swept into a dark and dreamless sleep. 
 
This time, when he felt his eyelids flutter, he knew it was evening. The light was not so harsh in the room he was being kept in. As his lids parted and he took in his surroundings, he realized that he was not dead. That in and of itself had to be some sort of miracle. White cotton sheets and a thin blanket covered him, their rough textures catching every now and then on the very pads of his fingertips. The whole room was clinically white.
 
Hospital. He must be in hospital. 
 
At the very corner of his vision he saw her. She was curled like a cat in one of the visitor chairs, legs tucked beneath her, and head resting on her hand. 
 
“Aurelia,” he managed to whisper.
 
Suddenly she was mere inches from him, hovering, hands grasping his own. Her voice was entirely too loud in his ears as she called for a mediwitch. He was poked and prodded, and asked a myriad of questions, none of which registered as he beheld the witch still holding his hand. 
 
They were here, together. They had

won.

A smile spread across his chapped lips. Aurelia assessed him for just a moment, before her own grin turned her lips upward, and she squeezed his hand.
 
Severus Snape had been very lucky to survive his encounter with the Dark Lord. Narcissa Malfoy even more so. After Aurelia’s killing curse hit Tom, she disposed of his journal, and with it, the last remaining scraps of the Dark Lord. She placed Severus under a stasis charm to prevent any further damage caused by the lingering curse Tom had lobbed at him. Narcissa Malfoy had been clinging to life, much of her life force drained by the soul scrap lodged in his diary.
 
Months after her recovery, she would go on the record to state the pull of the journal. How she had written in it daily since the arrival of the Dark Lord, and her sudden discovery of a self-replying book. How, on the day the Dark Lord fell, she had attempted to throw it out. And how the journal came to life instead. 
 
The Longbottoms decidedly adopted baby Draco upon his parents’ conviction and subsequent sentencing to Azkaban for aiding and abetting a coup to take over the Wizengamot and Ministry for Magic, as well as the other crimes the pair had committed while serving Tom Riddle. Alice seems to think Draco and Neville will get on swimmingly.
 
The Marauders were soon faced with their own form of an ethical dilemma, when Peter Pettigrew showed up on Lily and James Potter’s doorstep seeking refuge. Peter was arrested and sent to Azkaban after much deliberation, and Remus Lupin’s vehement insistence that Peter pay for his crimes. 
 
Sirius shut down after discovering his brother’s fate. Losing Peter had been an added blow, and soon enough the only remaining Black family heir became a recluse. Lily and James continued as they were, content raising Harry and pretending Lily was happy. 
 
Remus Lupin was offered work at Hogwarts following the war, but decidedly rejected the post to pursue a more Muggle-form of higher education and employment, the quiet life of a librarian.
 Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall remained at Hogwarts, though many within The Order no longer trusted the old wizard after they learned of the battle at Hogwarts. He was met with scrutiny, Minerva the one to cast the most sidelong glances and huffs of annoyance in his direction. She stayed not only to guide the children, the future of the wizarding world, but to protect them from the headmaster's misguidance. 
The first few months after Severus woke up were spent on edge. Aurelia was certain Lachesis would walk through the door at any moment to take her away, to tell her she had failed. After a year, she ceased startling at the sounds the evening would bring. After two, she hardly brought up The Council at all. 
 
The pair had moved out of the prying eyes of Europe. A substantial reward was bequeathed to them upon the Ministry’s discovery of their involvement with Voldemort’s downfall. Aurelia had always wanted to have a home closer to her clan, though she knew she could never be a part of it the way she yearned to. So, six months after Tom Riddle died for good, they moved to a cabin just outside of an isolated Canadian town. 
 
“This is our life, huh?” Aurelia said one evening, her legs draped across Severus’ lap while the both of them read on the sofa. One of her albums played softly in the background.
 
“Are you content with that?” Severus asked softly, eyes leaving his pages to assess her face.
 
“‘Course I am, Sev. Are you?”
 
In lieu of a verbal response, he leaned in to kiss her. It was gentle. It often was these days, no longer seeking reassurance through bruising kisses and tightly-held flesh. Often gentle, yes, but never lacking passion, yearning, need for one another. 
 
She chased his lips as he pulled away. His hand grasped her jaw, keeping her centimeters from her target.

“Patience, witch. Have you learned nothing?” he asked before brushing his lips against the column of her throat, eliciting a soft sigh from her. His free hand divested her of the book she still held, then soon began to free her of her robes.
 
His kisses peppered her bare skin until he reached the apex of her thighs, stopping only to look at her, eyes black with want. He dragged the flat of his tongue against her core, slowing as he met her bundle of nerves. As she moaned at the contact, her hips bucked, seeking purchase. His hand wound around her, firmly pinning her legs down as he continued to lick and suck and kiss her steadily slickening core. 
 
With another rough drag of his tongue she buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer as he inserted a digit. She stifled another moan when his head lifted, and his lips clasped around her nipple. Riding his hand, she found her climax.
 
He kissed his way back up to her neck as she steadied her breathing. Regaining her senses she quickly removed his shirt and trousers. With light touches, she caressed his broad chest, taking in the dark hairs and ripple of muscle there. She felt her lips curl into a grin as he sighed at her touch.
 
“Wicked little firedrake,” he whispered before bending down to capture her lips in another kiss.
 
Their legs soon tangled together, and he positioned himself at her entrance. One hand wrapped around his length, he rubbed his head in her slick heat. 
 
“Fuck, Lia,” he said, out of breath.
 
He rocked into her, lips crashing against hers as their hips finally met. His thrusts were shallow, hands gripping her hips, sliding up her sides, savoring her. His hand slipped between them, seeking her bundle of nerves. With his thumb he rubbed tight circles, capturing her moans as he picked up his pacing.
 
She clenched around him, coming undone again with a loud cry, digging her nails into his shoulders. His grip became tighter on her hips as he began pistoning his own at a savage pace. Thrusts became less and less controlled as he sought his own release. With a sharp call, he tensed, spilling himself inside of her.
 
They stayed locked in that embrace for a good while, not speaking, drawing soothing circles into each other’s skin. After a time, Severus spoke again, “Content does not begin to describe how I feel with our life, Aurelia.”
 
Over the years, Aurelia had become rather enthused by the title she’d received from the local villagers: “Witch of the Woods,” they called her. It had all begun with a simple healing draught she had supplied one of the young boys from town. He had fallen from a large tree nearby their cottage, and was unable to walk. She had heard his calls for help. Since their interaction, they would often hear a knock at their door at the strangest of hours. Medical remedies, assistance in finding lost items, advice on where to plant their crops, the list went on.
 
So it was nothing out of the ordinary when they received a singular, sharp knock on their door in the late evening. They had been enjoying a late dinner, listening (of course) to music, when the knock shook them from their gleeful endeavors.
 
Aurelia happily strode to the door, and opened it. The hot chocolate she had carried in her free hand had fallen to the door, spitting the porcelain mug on impact.
 
“No,” was all she said. So quiet, so resigned. He had not heard her like this since –
 
“You have spent enough time here, Aurelia. The two of you must follow me, now,” Lachesis said from their darkened doorstep.
 
Lachesis. Of course, Aurelia had feared he would return, seeking to bring her back to The Council. Use her. Torture her. But how many years had passed to quell that fear? How many years had they spent thinking they would spend the rest of their days in this cottage?
 
“And what, exactly, will you do if we refuse?” Severus asked the Fate.
 
Lachesis turned to look at him then, his face was a mask of calm as he said matter-of-factly, “I will remove both of you from the very threads of time itself.”
 
Severus felt the wind rush out of him as though he’d been punched in the stomach. Lachesis, however, seemed completely unmoved by his own words, or by Aurelia’s shrinking form as she slumped to the floor. Lachesis snapped his fingers, and a doorway of pure light appeared behind him. Without a single glance back at Severus or Aurelia, he walked through the doorway and disappeared.
 
The door remained. It beckoned to them. Aurelia caught Severus’ eye, and with a look of defeat she said, “There’s no point, Sev. We have to go.”
 
She reached for his hand. They stood before the gateway to the unknown, she squeezed his hand once, twice, three times, before taking a step forward.
 
As they walked through the blinding-white light, a wave of cold surrounded Severus, like walking through snow. As quickly as it enveloped him, his steps bringing him to the other side, the chill vanished. Before him stood a large hall. Constellations roved the ceiling, gilded and swirling a

bove like a mechanical night sky. A table splayed out before him, the center empty but for a dias beneath a swirling ball of magic. There were others in the hall. Their attention was drawn to Severus, to Lia, then to Lachesis himself.
 
Some looked vaguely familiar. Others were all-too well-known to him. Severus turned to glance at each face, he heard Lia’s breathing hitch. As he examined the next in the long line of eyes staring at them, he understood why.
 
“Regulus?” Lia asked, voice choking.
 
He was young, still. Younger than when Severus had last seen him. Likely younger than when he met his untimely death beside Lia. His dark eyes squinted in confusion, brows inching together. Of course, he would not remember her. Would not know her. 
 
Their interaction was interrupted by an ethereal voice from the corner, “You must, all of you, make your case.”
 
The being there was shrouded, yet what Severus could see was a paradox of its own. Both young and old peeked through robes made of darkness, like smoke made tactile. Its skin was golden and gray. Another Fate.
 
Severus tore his eyes away as its words settled over him.

Make my case?

Confusion settled over the rest of them, clear in their shared glances and drawn faces. 
 
“Only one of you will succeed in changing your fate.”

Lia’s hold on Severus only tightened as the icy claws of interdimensional time travel dug into them. A doorway to another world, a place beyond time and space. His slender hand in hers was the only tether she had to a quickly disintegrating reality. 
 
Feet hit marble, and a room materialized before her, one she hadn’t seen in years. It remained all-too-familiar. Her gaze landed first on the orb in the center of the table, where she’d first seen Severus, then on the faces that stared up at her. They too were familiar, though some more so than others. Hermione Granger’s face peeked out from a head of bushy hair, haggard and older than she’d been in memories from the pensieve. Neville Longbottom, head held high, and eyes that knew entirely too much of the cruelties of the world. Sirius Black, still rakish, but devoid of humor. Albus Dumbledore, younger than she’d ever witnessed. An older Harry Potter, scarred beyond belief. Remus Lupin, surprisingly youthful and free of the lines he’d received from his altercations as a werewolf. Lily Potter, older. Much older. And there, with eyes as dark as the lake that once swallowed him, Regulus.
 
She choked out his name, unable to stop herself. Guilt and shame and agony filling her as bile made its way up her throat. He didn’t know her. How could he? He was not the Regulus that died for her, and so his eyes held only confusion as he glared back at her.
 
Atropos spoke, her being coming into visibility slowly as though she hadn’t been there before. Likely, she hadn’t. She told them to make their cases. Only when they, each of them, cast worried glances at one another, and Lachesis clarified did Lia register why they had gathered here. Why Severus was not yet allowed to continue his life after the Dark Lord fell.
 
His chance for redemption, gifted to him, to her, all those years ago, was not the only case discussed. She was not the only Epoch sent backwards to rewrite the second wizarding war.