twelve

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The Gryffindor students were in uproar, as conspiracies as to the fat lady's whereabouts flew through the air. Three large claw marks had broken through her portrait, tearing the canvas unevenly. A large crowd of students and professors were huddled around what would usually be the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Filch was standing off to the side, a look of distaste showing in his snarled lip.

Remus and Wren had split a few corridors over as to not be seen walking together, having wandered off separate ways. Remus had stumbled across the commotion as he was climbing the moving stairs, his mind awash with Sirius' claims.

Remus joined the back of the crowd with a furrowed brow, unknowingly standing right next to a familiar platinum blonde.

"What's happening?" Remus mumbled, mostly speaking to himself. Milo responded from beside him.

"The Fat Lady is missing." He explained, "I reckon she's just had enough of people telling her she can't sing."

Remus scoffed at the young boy's remark, opening his mouth to say something before he was interrupted. Everyone's head snapped towards a woman screeching, "He's somewhere in the castle. Sirius Black!"

Milo visibly shivered as a brush of cold air ran down his spine at the mention of the infamous criminal's name. The crowd of students and professors erupted into panic, shrill voices cutting through the cold night air.

Dumbledore held up a withered hand, managing to silence everyone with a simple gesture. He glanced around, surveying the crowd over the rim of his half-moon glasses.

"Prefects," He started, his voice laced with a tired tone, "Take the students to the Great Hall." He caught Remus' eye over the gaggle of moving students, "Professors, stay behind."

Once the students had dispersed, Remus aimlessly wandered over to the Fat Lady portrait. He ran a careful finger along where the canvas had been ripped, noting the jagged edges that looked exactly like claw marks. He could hear the headmaster instructing the other Professors a few feet away, but he would be lying if he said that he was listening.

"Remus." He was harshly dragged back into reality by a bony hand digging into his left shoulder. He turned to meet the glinting eye of Albus.

"Albus." He greeted the man with a small nod.

"You and Severus are to take the North wing of the castle." He explained, "See if you can find him."

He gave Remus a look that Snape couldn't see - an urge for him to find Sirius before anybody else could - before he sauntered away with a swish of his purple, velvet cloak.

*

The two Professors hadn't spoken to each other since their fight before the Christmas break, walking through the North wing of the old, withered castle in a rather uncomfortable silence.

Remus cleared his throat, causing Snape to shoot him one of his classic sideways glares. The hook-nosed man was keeping a close eye on his fellow professor, keeping watch in case he attempted to do anything untoward or suspicious.

"I know you helped him." The gravelly voice of Snape cut through the frost bitten, January air.

Remus scoffed at his remark, "Well then, you are wrong my friend."

"We are not friends." Snape huffed, crossing his arms over the broad width of his chest like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Life is too short to hold grudges, Severus." Remus quipped.

"I do not hold grudges." He pouted, causing Remus to scoff again.

They walked in silence again, the only sound being soft leather rhythmically pattering against the cobbled floor. Their steps resonated off the walls, echoing around the corridor and making the silence all the more uncomfortable.

Without saying a word to each other, the professor's split up. A fork in the corridor caused them to go separate ways, a simple lumos spell on the tip of each of their wands.

As Snape rounded a darkened corner, his wand the only thing lighting the way, the silhouette of someone sitting on a window ledge caused him to grind to a halt.

The moonlight was refracting through the stained glass, outlining the girl in an array of ethereal colours and painting the cobble of the floor. She was sitting with her feet up on the ledge, head tilted and resting against the wall as she watched the little droplets of rain run down the colourful glass.

Her hair was pulled back in a loose plait, hanging over her right shoulder. Her freckles were barely visible through the low light, speckled across her olive skin.

"Miss Winslow?" Snape's voice was laced with anger, despite his brows furrowed in confusion. Wren's head snapped towards her professor in shock, as she quickly wiped her cheeks.

She had mascara smudged under her eyes, a singular tear balancing on the chisel of her jaw.

"Miss Winslow!" Snape spat as he neared closer, "What the hell are you doing out here after curfew, when there's a murderous.."

"Oh fuck off, Severus!" Wren said with a sigh, returning her gaze to the window.

Snape's voice dropped to an angry whisper, as he grabbed Wren by the bicep, "Don't you dare, you little.."

Wren gasped as he pulled her from the windowsill, losing her footing slightly as her feet hit the cobbled floor. Stray strands of her fringe came astray from her plait, falling across her forehead.

Severus began to walk away from the window, his hand still clasped around her arm as he pulled her along behind him. She was trying not to fall over her own feet as she struggled against his grip.

"Severus stop, you're hurting me!" She begged, but Severus wasn't listening. His nails were digging into her skin, but he was too caught up in his own anger to process what he was doing.

"Get off of me!" She whined, a balled fist whacking into the man's broad back. She was struggling against him but to no avail; He was just too strong. She felt helpless, weak, as he dragged her along with minimum effort.

"You're just like my father!" She cried. If she couldn't fight back then she was at least going to hit him where it hurt.

Severus froze, "I am nothing like him."

Wren moved closer to the brooding man, her mouth mere inches away from his ear, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

She wrangled her arm from his grip as he processed what she had said, her eyes boring into the man as she stood in front of him.

"I'll show you mine," She spoke slower, rolling up the sleeve of her jumper, "If you show me yours."

Snape didn't break eye contact with the girl for even a second, as he pushed the sleeve of his cloak up to his elbow. Spanning the length of his forearm was a dark, inky outline.

The Dark Mark.

Wren couldn't help the fear that ran down her spine at the sight of that all too familiar tattoo, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She gulped as she drew her eyes away from the ink taunting her with visions of her father.

She rolled up the sleeve of her navy cashmere jumper, revealing a rather gruesome looking scar similar in shape to the mark on Severus' arm. Jagged edges twisted and turned up the length of her forearm like a snake.

Wren studied Snape's face waiting for a reaction. But there wasn't one.

"You knew?" Wren's voice started low, before the frustration that had been bubbling inside of her for what felt like forever, finally started to overflow, "You KNEW?"

"Your mother told me." Severus blinked back at the girl, still unfazed by their current conversation. Wren's cheeks had turned a light hue of pink, her hands balled up into fists by her sides.

Wren pulled her wand from the waistband of her black jeans, holding it out towards Snape with a face of pure determination. Her eyes were burning with fury; Snape had never seen her act like this before.

"You knew what he did to me," She spat, backing Snape into a corner, "What he was doing to me?"

He could see the wooden tip of the wand glistening with a blue light, pointing directly at the space between his eyes. "And you did what?" A manic smile made its way onto Wren's lips, "Nothing?"

"Wren!" A husky voice called out from behind her, but she wasn't listening. There was a strange humming sound in her head, and a tingling sensation on the surface of her skin. She could feel her scar burning, just like it did when her father had put it there.

"You let him torture me." She thought she heard someone call her name again, but she couldn't be sure, "He nearly killed me, Severus! Do you know how painful it was for this fucking monstrosity to heal?"

"Wren." This time it was Snape whispering her name, his eyes showing the first little inkling of emotion that she had seen all night.

"You were like a father to me, Severus." She spat again, digging her wand into his chest. Wren wasn't aware of the tears now streaming down her cheeks, beading on her jawline as she shouted at the man before her.

Rough hands suddenly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her backwards until she was staring into the comforting brown of Remus' eyes. The bush of his brow was furrowed, small lines of confusion etched into the skin between them. Wren felt the anger in her gut immediately settle, the scent of parchment and firewood washing over her.

Remus said something, her eyes glancing down to the curve of his lips, but the ringing in Wren's ears was so loud that she couldn't hear it. Her arms went limp as Remus lifted her left one, tracing a gentle finger along the length of her scar. She could just about make out the words "Did you do this?", as he turned to look at his fellow professor, his hand still gently holding onto Wren's arm.

"Did I do this?" Severus scoffed in return, straightening out his shapeless robes, "Of course I didn't, you idiot." He walked over to join Remus and Wren, not an ounce of annoyance present on his features for what Wren had just done.

"Thomas Winslow is undeserving of you, Wren." Snape spoke, "I would have killed him in an instant if it wasn't for.."

The man's sentence trailed off, as he glanced down to look at his feet. "If it wasn't for what?" Wren pushed.

"If it wasn't for your mother."

"My mother?" Wren couldn't help but feel threatened, as if these two men were looking down on her, ashamed.

"Your father put a blood curse on your mother when they got married." Snape explained. Remus was looking at Snape in intrigue.

Snape continued, barely able to make eye contact with the girl in front of him, "The longer she is away from him, the sicker she gets. And if he were to die, well.."

"Then she would die too." Wren finished his sentence. It was all starting to make sense; Her mother was always standing tall by her husband's side despite how he treated her. She felt her heart skip a beat, a sudden longing to speak to her mother washing over her.

"But.." Wren's eyes darted between Severus and Remus, "If he's in Azkaban, then.."

"She's dying, Wren."

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