#where ariel is ignoring snape and he does not react Well

[shostakobitchh]

as penance for 2 weeks between chapters here’s another very short sneak peek:

His eyes flickered to the display cabinets shoved to the brim with books, the glass gone. Severus hadn’t bothered to replace it, after he’d smashed every single one the night the girl had left.

“Severus,” Dumbledore began, but stopped.

“Well?” Severus sneered. “Spit it out.”

“You must deal with this.”

She stared at him, deeply annoyed and mildly offended. “What would you have me do? Grovel at her feet?”

He raised an unkempt eyebrow at him. “You don’t think that you owe her an explanation?”

“I owe her better than that,” he smashed the cigarette into the ashtray, glaring.

Dumbledore sighed. “Severus, you know as well as I do that this is simply about doing what is fair to her.”

“And what would be fair, in your opinion?” Severus began his fingers scraping against the ashtray, letting them scrape the ceramic. “When has anything in that damnable girl’s life warranted any degree of fairness?”

When has mine?

Dumbledore continued to wear that solemn mask of expectancy. “It is because of the circumstances that I am urging you to explain yourself to her.”

“There is no point in inflicting more pain on the brat.”

His face hardened. “She cares for you a great deal.”

“She is a little fool. I warned her — I warned both of you that this would not end well.”

She would not even look at him anymore. She had cheered and clapped for the goddamn motherfucking werewolf, who had hidden away like the two-faced coward he was for over a decade, hadn’t even written the girl once, and had earned her respect in the span of a few weeks. At least Severus had the cover of his ignorance, however inexcusable, but he had tried for the girl, had known that eventually it would shatter and had done it anyway. The wolf would’ve folded like a deck of cards and ran off with his tail between his legs, had he been in Severus’ position.

He thought of her face splitting open like a chasm, the hitch of her breath before she tore from the room —

[shostakobitchh]

One shot request: Snape coming home from spying mission and attempting to hide a huge gross gash on his arm from Ariel

Severus knows Ariel is waiting up for him, like she always is.

Of all the times he has been summoned to the Dark Lord’s side, tonight is the first – since his return – that Severus has had to bear the brunt of his wrath. Draco’s task, according to the Dark Lord, is moving far too slowly. He’s growing impatient, anxious for Dumbledore to finally be out of his way so he can have his own with Lily’s children.

Which was why his wand landed on Severus, tonight. Draco couldn’t be present for obvious reasons, and Severus was the second closest to the mission. He hadn’t known what was worse — the brunt of the pain from his injuries, the gleeful light in Bellatrix’s eyes that enjoyed every second of his torture, or the churn in his stomach that reminded him that Ariel wasn’t going to react well. They’d made a promise, almost two years ago now, that every time Severus left, he would never leave without saying goodbye, and he would never return without greeting her first.

Severus has never regretted his promise to her more than he does now, holding his arm tightly against his chest as he bites back a moan of pain. He wants nothing more than to collapse against one of the dungeon walls and let the dark spots in his vision overtake him, but he knows he can’t, because if he doesn’t make it back to his quarters, he’ll leave Ariel wondering, worrying, waiting. The gash in his arm is bleeding profusely, and Severus can’t afford to linger any longer.

It’s nearly four in the morning when he walks through the door. Severus inhales deeply when he spots her curled up in his armchair, staring blearily into the fire.

Severus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Ariel.”

Her head shoots up, a look of relief passing over her face as she leaps off the couch. Severus wants to go to her, wants to hear her laugh and say that he needs to hibernate, that they all should until the war is over. Severus’ daughter, however, is far more observant than that, like he is, and notices the grimace he’s trying to peel off his face, and the arm he’s shoved behind his back, between himself and the door.

She halts.

Ariel’s eyes lock onto his. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Severus forces out in a toneless voice. “I’m exhausted. Aren’t you?”

“What… what happened?” she ignores him, swooping forward – Severus recoils against the door. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No,” he lies.

“Liar.” Ariel hisses. “What is it?”

If Severus wasn’t so taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor, he might’ve snapped and brushed past her. There’s a dangerous glint in Ariel’s eye that doesn’t unnerve him, but intrigues him.

Severus slowly moves his arm, watching her face carefully as horror crashes and tears into her already tense features. Ariel raises a shaky hand over the wound, her mouth set in a tight line that threatens to spill over with something Severus isn’t sure he can handle right now.

“He did this to you?” Ariel whispers.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Severus lowers his arm out of her view. “I am fine.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he sees the pool of blood forming on the floor below him. It’s dripping down his elbow, collecting into a messy puddle between them.

Her eyes flash like a coin at the bottom of a pond. “You weren’t going to tell me. You were going to try and hide it from me.”

Severus sucks in a breath of air through his teeth as the entire right side of his body throbs in pain. “Once I was alone, I was going to heal it and rest. You shouldn’t have stayed up, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“There’s a giant gash in your stupid arm and you’re trying to go to bed without treating it?” Ariel fumes. “Are you trying to bleed out overnight?”

“Are you not listening? I said I was going to treat it myself,” Severus snaps. “Obviously.”

“Oh yeah, healing the giant gaping hole in your arm by yourself sounds ingenious!” she shrieks. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Severus can feel little flicks of rage digging into him, but it’s all overpowered by the pain in his arm. He bares his teeth, dragging the cold, night air between them, a retort on his lips, when Ariel grabs his wrist.

“Jesus, what did he do?” Ariel’s other hand went to his forearm. “Try and filet you?”

“Watch yourself, girl.” he warns, pulling his arm away, but Ariel points her wand at him.

“If you don’t sit down, I’m going to put you in a Body Bind.”

He blinks. “Sit? I need to take care of this.” he gestures to his arm.

"No, you don’t,” Ariel’s jaw sets, the look in her eyes causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up straight. “I am. Sit.”

A mental note Severus had tucked away in some terribly disheveled corner of his mind surges to the forefront of his thoughts. Ariel had taken up the hobby of obsessively reading Healing articles – everything she can get her hands on, the more morose, the better. Severus assumed it had to do with her future, her career, a way to prove Umbridge wrong long after her departure from Hogwarts.

Severus knew what it was really for. He can’t recall a time he’s ever hated being right.

"You are not doing anything!” Severus snarls, though there’s a frantic pressure building inside him at her words. “I am going to sterilize and mend it myself, and then, you’re going to leave me be!”

“Why are you always like this?” Ariel shoots back. “Just let me fucking help, for once!”

Severus is seconds away from letting her have it –  he can’t recall a time when she’s ever spoken to him like this, ever, but knows he should hate it. He tells himself that his resignation is due to the blood loss. He’s too tired to keep arguing with her, too exhausted to fight Ariel on this one, and he does require medical attention… immediately. What unsettles him, however, is that he’s placing his health in his teenager’s hands.

… Quite literally, it would seem. As Severus tries to move away, his legs buckle, and Ariel is suddenly the one holding him up.

“If you try and do everything, you’re probably going to end of accidentally killing yourself in the process.” Ariel says in a much softer voice – Severus feels his face flame. She’s pitying him, under the impression that he’s useless, and while it might be temporarily true, he can’t stand it. He’d rather death, over this.

Severus lets her drag him to the couch, nonetheless.

His head hits the back of couch as Ariel pulls the coffee table closer so that she’s sitting atop it. She’s maneuvering his arm around his torso, and Severus relocates his gaze to the ceiling. He knows that in a minute or so, Ariel is going to realize she bit off more than she can chew and call Poppy, but there’s something else he can’t name, something that —

“Take your robe off and pull up your sleeve.“ Ariel orders. "I can’t fix you if you’re wearing these things. They’re too bloody thick.”

Like you, right now, Severus wants to retort, but he bites his tongue and does as Ariel asks.

The robes hit the floor with a wet smack. They both wince, but Ariel’s nostrils flare angrily as Severus let out an exhausted sigh. He feels mildly nauseous, the thought absolutely mortifying. If he vomits, Ariel will never let him live it down. She’ll start sleeping on the couch again, to make sure she hears him if he gets up before she does.

"What curse did he use?” Ariel asks in a crackly voice. Her fingers trace lightly around the wound, causing him to hiss warningly.

Severus hesitates – up until this point, he hasn’t relayed a single detail about his summons with her. He’s held that to him when he sees the look on her face every time he returns. It’s the one thing left he can give her – the one shred of information he can still protect her from.

“Sectumsempra.” Severus says in a heavy voice. “You don’t know it –”

“I do actually,” Ariel snaps. “Harry showed me your stupid potions textbook.”

Severus feels his arms and head go numb. He hasn’t seen that book in years — hasn’t thought about it in longer. All of his belongings from his childhood are locked up in the attic at Spinner’s End, where Ariel couldn’t find them, but close enough for Severus to know they’re still around. He’s not sentimental — it’s more of proof of that time, that it really transpired, his mistakes as numerous as the parchment stored away.

“How – how –” the words stick to his throat, like the blood rolling down the palm of his hand, dripping off his fingers.

“Please,” Ariel gives a humorless snort. “I recognized your handwriting. And that name – Prince? After your mum? Nice touch, Dad.”

“Where the hell did he find it?”

“Slughorn’s room. He carries the stupid thing everywhere. You wouldn’t happen to have developed the counter-curse, would you?”

Severus swallows roughly, his chest squeezing around his heart. “Vulnera Sanentur, thrice. The first usage eases the blood flow, the second causes the wounds to knit and the third removes –”

“Effects?” Ariel finishes. “I know how three-time healing works, Dad.”

Before he can tell her that his own spell being used against him warrants his own method of healing, Ariel raises her wand.

His eyes slide shut as she begins reciting the incantation, slow and even, her voice’s cadence low and soothing. There’s a shriek in the back of his mind that keeps supplying that having your barely of-age daughter heal the gaping hole in your arm is quite possibly the worst thing he’s ever allowed to happen. Severus finds himself not caring about that, however; all he can think of is how he made it back here at all, of how instead of turning into a puddle, Ariel is as sturdy as mile-deep ice.

“There,” a small smile twists her lips when Severus opens his eyes. “good as new.”

Severus lifts his arm to look it over himself. She’s right — a pink line is all that remains. He hadn’t felt a thing, hadn’t realized it was over until Ariel had said anything. The only proof of an injury Severus can still see is the blood staining his white shirt, and on the floor.

“Accio Blood Replenisher.” Ariel calls, a vial whizzing into her opened hand. She uncorks the vial and hands it to him. “I should have you take two or three of these, yeah?”

Before he can answer, she’s already summoned the rest. Severus downs them, the glass heavy in his hand. Between the blood loss and his exhaustion, he’s beginning to feel like he’s been trampled and shoved inside of a crate. He can barely move his lips to tell her to leave him be — she ignores him.

“You’re forehead is cut too.” Ariel stands, her fingers gently inspecting his temple. “Was this the same curse?”

“No,” Severus winces. “I believe I hit my head when I fell.”

He feels her wand tap his temple. "Stay still, unless you want your face sliced off.”

“It would be an improvement.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not letting you touch my face.”

“You don’t seem to care much for it, but I do.” Ariel grabs his forehead, and shoves it back. “Stay still.”

Before Severus can tear out of her grip, the cold feel of her wand is pressed against his temple. He freezes, his eyes sliding shut, waiting for the pain, for more blood to come pouring down his face, but it doesn’t come.

“There,” Ariel murmurs. “perfect.”

He opens one eye, disbelieving. He wants to yell at her for using him as her cadaver, but the satisfied look in her eyes is enough to make him see that Ariel was more than successful.

"Don’t believe me?” she scowls at the look on his face.

Severus sits up, his knees knocking against Ariel’s. “I’m still alive, so I suppose you did a well enough job.”

Her face splits off — there’s hurt, followed by cold indifference. “Glad I could help.”

“Ariel…”

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t ask me anything right now. Are you okay?”

Severus looks away, down at his bloodstained sleeve. “I’ll live.”

“Not if you try and hide your injuries from me.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I’m bloody worried about you!” Ariel shouts at him. “You scared the piss out of me, and now you want to make me out to be the moron?”

His eyes turn into slits. “I said nothing of the sort. Forcing me into submission, however, while I am obviously physically compromised —“

She slams up from the table. “It was the least I could do, seeing as you’ve spent the last fifteen years doing the same for me!”

Her face crumbles, and Severus finally sees what he’d originally been anticipating bubble to the surface, washing away her anger. "You always get mad when I stay up and wait,” Ariel mutters. “but I knew… I knew he’d hurt you, and I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Her eyes water, and she looks away. Severus feels his heart throb away at the back of his throat. He can’t think — his mind is a muddled mess of fog and fear and fever — but he has enough strength for this. He forces himself to stand as Ariel’s arms wrap around him tightly, mindful not to touch the bloodstained sleeve, or squeeze him too hard. No one has ever cared about his wellbeing as much as she has, and while it’s never come to this extreme before, Severus can’t bring himself to push her away… or at least, right now, he can’t.

“Stupid git,” Ariel sniffles.

Severus agrees with a sigh, that being the last thing he remembers before she settles him back against the arm of the couch.