Chapter Text
1991, Hogsmeade
Dear Ms. Craft,
I have sent this letter in hopes that you would consider in helping. Strange incidents have been occurring involving disappearances and I fear that they're getting closer to Hogwarts. We need someone of your talents to investigate on this matter. Someone will also be accompanying you to meet with your informant. The meeting will take place at the Three Broomsticks at midnight.
P.S. You still have not responded on my other offer. Hogwarts is looking for a staff for the Defense Against the Dark Arts. Please reconsider it. I will be awaiting your owl for your response.
Sincerely,
Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
In the pub, a woman no younger then 21 sat in a chair away from everyone else. Fae took a sip of her fire whiskey and slammed the glass down on the counter. The amber liquid sloshed against the sides of the glass, catching the dim candlelight of the Three Broomsticks. She glanced over the letter again, her green eyes scanning the familiar handwriting before crumbling it up with slender fingers. She casted windgardium leviosa on it making the crumpled ball float a few inches above her palm.
"Incendio," Fae mutters as she downed another drink from her glass, the burning sensation of the fire whiskey warming her throat.
The letter began to catch ablaze, orange flames licking at the parchment until it disintegrated into ash that floated down onto the wooden counter. She shakes her head and snorted. He just doesn't give up. This was the fifteenth letter this week that she received from Dumbledore. She brushed the ash away with a sweep of her hand, watching it scatter into nothingness.
Then her thoughts began to drift of her memories from Hogwarts. Becoming a prefect, the silver and green badge gleaming on her robes; hanging out with her friends in the grand hall, their laughter echoing against the enchanted ceiling; playing gobstones with them in the courtyard during sunny afternoons; kicking Merula's butt in wizard duels, the satisfaction of watching that smug look disappear from her rival's face.
Fae's lips curled into a smile, and she snickers. She sighs, downing another drink. Merula...I wonder what's she's doing now... She swirled her drink in her glass, watching the liquid create a small whirlpool, still lost deep in her thoughts. Her vision began to get blurry, slightly spinning and the noise from the other customers in the pub began to fade in and out as she was starting to get drunker. The cheerful conversations and clinking glasses around her became a pleasant hum in her ears.
She heard someone clear their throat from behind her and turned around, nearly falling out of seat as she did, to see who it was. Her long brown hair whipped around her face as she moved too quickly, and she had to brush it aside to see clearly.
Green eyes met with black as they stared back into hers, drawing her into them as if they were staring into her soul. A tall man with a crooked nose, long greasy black hair, dressed in black, and a long cloak which gave him the appearance of a bat, stared down at her in slight annoyance as if he had been calling out to her for a while. His pale, sallow skin seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the pub, and his thin lips were pressed into a tight line. She felt her heart skipped a beat.
She first laid eyes on him sitting with the teachers during her first year at Hogwarts at the sorting ceremony. She remembered how intimidating he had seemed then, and how little that had changed over the years.
"Severus," Fae slurred. She felt her cheeks grow hot as she blushed, the warmth spreading across her face like wildfire.
Severus sneered, his black eyes narrowing as he looked down at her with an expression of disdain. "Oh, nice to see that your ears do work for a change, Miss Craft. Not that you ever listened to begin with." He said, agitated. His voice was low and silky, carrying that familiar tone of contempt she had heard so often in the dungeons of Hogwarts.
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"And you're still the sour and bitter professor who still teaches potions class." Fae said sarcastically as she smirked, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. The dim lighting of the Three Broomsticks cast long shadows across her face, highlighting the defiance in her green eyes.
Severus frowned, his thin lips pressing into an even thinner line. "I see you're still the same mouthy little brat." His voice was low, barely audible over the background chatter of the pub, yet carried a distinct edge that could cut through steel.
Fae glared up at him, her posture straightening despite her intoxicated state. "I'm not a brat anymore, Sev." She tells him, the nickname rolling off her tongue with surprising familiarity.
Severus' eyes widened in shock, a flash of something—pain, perhaps—crossing his features before hardening into fury. There was only one person who would ever call him that. The memory of fiery red hair and kind green eyes, so different from the impudent gaze before him, flooded his mind. How dare she?!
"Don't call me that. Ever." He said, each word dripping with ice, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists at his sides.
Fae raises an eyebrow, taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor. The venom in his voice was unexpected, even for him. "What? Did I strike a nerve?" She retorts, though her voice held a hint of genuine curiosity beneath the sarcasm.
Severus scoffs, the sound bitter in the warm air of the pub. His black eyes raked over her disheveled appearance with undisguised contempt. "So, this is what Hogwarts' finest student is reduced to? Sitting in a bar getting drunk." His gaze flickered to the half-empty glass on the counter.
"I'm not drunk, *hic*, you greasy git." Fae said as she attempts to stand, her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. She wobbles precariously, her equilibrium completely off, before toppling sideways like a felled tree. She lands on the floor with an ungraceful thud, her wand clattering beside her.
"Pathetic." Severus muttered, though there was something almost like concern hidden beneath the disdain. He turns to Madam Rosmerta, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement. "How many did she have?" He asks, nodding toward the fire whiskey.
Rosmerta wiped her hands on her apron, her curly hair bouncing as she shook her head. "Just one. She's only taken a few sips." She replied with a shrug. "If I'd had known that she couldn't handle alcohol, I wouldn't have given it to her." The barmaid cast a sympathetic glance at Fae, who was now attempting to use a chair leg to pull herself up.
Severus pinched the bridge of his hooked nose and sighs, a deep, weary sound that seemed to come from his very soul. He looks down at the witch sprawled on the floor, still struggling to regain her footing, her long hair now a tangled mess around her face. With a reluctant movement that suggested he'd rather be anywhere else, he bent down and grabbed Fae by her arm, pulling her upright with surprising gentleness.
She stumbled forward, colliding with his chest, her face momentarily pressed against the rough fabric of his black robes. She caught a whiff of something herbal—potions ingredients, no doubt—mixed with something distinctly him. Severus quickly pushed her back, though his hands remained on her arms, steadying her until she found her balance.
"Are you going to be able to do this or not?" Severus asked, irritation evident in every syllable, though his hands were surprisingly gentle against her arms.
"I can do it, *hic*—" Suddenly, Fae's face paled, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. That familiar, awful sensation was rising in her throat. Without warning, she broke away from his grip and lurched toward the nearest trash can, barely making it in time before the contents of her stomach made an unwelcome reappearance.
Severus turned away, his expression a mixture of disgust and something almost like pity. A nearby patron grimaced, quickly relocating to a table further away. "Let's just get this over with," he muttered, glancing toward the door. "The sooner the better. We're supposed to be meeting him here at the Three Broomsticks, correct?" He cast an irritated look at the entrance. "He's late."
Fae straightened up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, looking marginally more alert. Her complexion had lost its greenish tinge. "Well, it is a full moon out," she explained, her voice slightly hoarse but steadier.
"How very observant of you?" Severus retorts, sarcasm dripping from every word like poison from a snake's fang.
Fae approached him again, her steps more stable now. The fire whiskey seemed to have mostly exited her system. "Why are you always like this? So distant. So cold?" She asks, genuine curiosity in her tone. The lamplight caught in her eyes, making them seem almost luminous against her pale skin.
Severus looked at her, his dark eyes narrowing as if she were an ingredient he couldn't quite identify. "I believe that's none of your business, Ms. Craft," he said, emphasizing her surname with particular disdain.
"What? Did someone break your heart or something?" Fae questions, pressing further. The moment the words left her mouth, something shifted in Severus's expression—a flicker of raw pain that was gone so quickly she might have imagined it. He glared at her, his silence more telling than any words could be.
"We're in the same house. I don't see why we can't share secrets. You know, get to know one another. We're both adults here," Fae replied, gesturing between them with a wave of her hand. The bracelet on her wrist caught the light, sending tiny reflections dancing across the wall.
"The sorting hat made a mistake," Severus said coldly. "Ever since you were in Slytherin, you've been a walking catastrophe. Always sneaking off in the middle of the night." His eyes narrowed at the memory of catching her out after curfew more times than he could count.
Fae interrupted, her voice rising with indignation. "To help Hogwarts! And it's a good thing that I did! If my friends and I hadn't, the cursed ice would have spread throughout the entire school." She crossed her arms defensively, chin jutting forward.
"Costing Slytherin house points," Severus adds, unmoved by her justification.
"We still won the house cup. Six years straight, I might add," Fae interjected, a note of pride creeping into her voice. The green and silver badge she'd worn still meant something to her, despite her reluctance to admit it.
"Would have been seven if you hadn't just quit," Severus said, his voice dropping to something almost like disappointment. "The other professors were disappointed, such as McGonagall and Flitwick. They claimed that you had so much potential, of being a professor at Hogwarts." His lip curled slightly. "Although, I've never seen it."
Fae shrugged, ignoring his barb, her gaze drifting to the window where the moonlight spilled through. "I took advanced classes and learned hard spells that most students wouldn't be able to do. I learned all that I needed to know. So, what's the point of staying another year?" Her voice softened slightly. "I'm perfectly happy with just being an auror."
"There's more to life than just simply casting spells, Craft," Severus said, watching her with those inscrutable dark eyes. "Clearly, what you're lacking in, is judgment." His gaze flicked meaningfully to the trash can she'd just been acquainted with.
Fae shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "Meh."
Severus's expression darkened further. "You're just as arrogant and naive as your brother. Another Slytherin, also a rule breaker. He went looking for the cursed vaults and look at where it got him. Expelled." The words were calculated to wound, and they hit their mark.
Fae stepped toward him, her previous intoxication completely gone now, replaced by a cold fury that made her green eyes flash dangerously. She moved close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, her voice dropping to a growl. "Don't you ever talk about my brother that way." Her fists clenched at her sides. "My mother and I are worried sick! We don't even know if he's alive or dead! We haven't heard from him in years!" The raw pain in her voice was unmistakable, the vulnerability beneath her bravado suddenly exposed.
"Am I interrupting something?" A voice cut through the tension. Fae and Severus turned to see a man standing nearby, watching them with a mix of amusement and concern. He had shaggy brown hair streaked with premature gray, kind yellow-green eyes, and a distinctive scar that ran across his nose and cheek, giving his otherwise gentle face an unexpectedly fierce appearance.
"Remus!" Fae exclaimed, her mood instantly brightening as she rushed over to embrace him, nearly tripping over her own feet in her eagerness.
"Lupin," Severus said simultaneously, the name sounding like a curse on his lips. His posture stiffened even further, if that were possible, as he watched the werewolf return Fae's enthusiastic hug.
Remus chuckled warmly, patting Fae's back before releasing her. His worn robes hung loosely on his thin frame, and dark circles shadowed his eyes—testament to the approaching full moon. He looked between the two of them with an amused smile playing at his lips. "I heard from Dumbledore that you two were close, but I didn't expect that close."
"We're not," Severus replied emotionlessly, though his eyes flashed with something dangerous.
Remus settled into a chair at their table, his movements careful as if his body ached. "Dumbledore told me that there have been strange incidents occurring. People disappearing in the night as if they vanished. No trace of evidence left." His expression grew serious. "And what's more troubling is that it's growing closer towards Hogwarts. I fear that whoever is behind this may attack the school."
"Could it be Voldemort?" Fae asked bluntly, dropping her voice only slightly.
The effect was immediate. The entire pub went silent as if someone had cast Silencio. Several patrons looked over with expressions ranging from fear to outrage before hurriedly returning to their own conversations, now in hushed tones. Madam Rosmerta shot them a sharp look from behind the bar. "Shh!" she scolded, glancing around nervously. "Don't say his name out loud!"
"I'm not scared," Fae said with a casual shrug, though she did lower her voice. "It's just a name." She twirled her wand between her fingers, a habit from her school days.
"You should be," Severus replied, his voice barely above a whisper. There was something in his tone that gave Fae pause—not just the usual disdain, but something deeper, darker. "You wouldn't be so confident if you knew what you were facing." The shadows seemed to deepen around him as he spoke, his face half-hidden in darkness.
Fae studied him with renewed interest. "What? Did you know him or something?" she prodded. Severus stared back at her, his expression unreadable, though something flickered in the depths of his black eyes.
He ignored her question, turning instead to Remus. "Getting back to the question at hand," he said curtly, "is there anything else that you heard about the disappearances?" The tense line of his shoulders betrayed his discomfort.
Remus was about to answer when a blood-curdling shriek pierced the night. Glass exploded inward as a window shattered, sending deadly shards flying across the pub. Several patrons ducked, covering their heads as the fragments rained down.
"Get down!" Severus commanded, his wand already drawn.
Dark cloaked figures apparated into the Three Broomsticks with sharp cracks that echoed through the room. Their faces were obscured by shadows, but their intentions were clear as jets of colored light erupted from their wands, striking tables, chairs, and narrowly missing terrified customers.
"Stupefy!" one of the attackers shouted, aiming directly at Fae.
Before she could react, Severus lunged forward, knocking her to the ground. His body covered hers as the spell sailed over them, hitting the wall behind with a burst of red sparks. Fae felt the wind knocked from her lungs as she hit the floor, Severus's weight pressing down on her. Through the chaos, she became acutely aware of his proximity—the faint scent of herbs and potions that clung to his robes, the curtain of black hair that momentarily shielded their faces, the intensity in his dark eyes as they met hers.
She didn't know if it was still the alcohol in her system, but warmth flooded her cheeks as she realized Severus was still on top of her, his face inches from hers. For a split second, something unreadable flashed across his features before his usual mask of indifference returned.
"Protego!" Remus shouted, casting a shield charm that deflected another volley of spells aimed at them. The magical barrier shimmered in the air above them, giving them a moment's reprieve.
Severus rolled off Fae in one fluid motion, crouching beside her with his wand raised. "Are you going to sit there and stare, or are you going to make yourself useful and help?" he retorted, already casting non-verbal spells at their attackers. A jet of purple light left his wand, catching one of the cloaked figures in the chest and sending them sprawling.
Behind the bar, Madam Rosmerta had taken cover, her wand clutched in her trembling hand as she peered cautiously over the counter. Around them, the remaining patrons were either huddled under tables or disapparating with frantic pops, leaving behind half-finished drinks and upturned chairs.
Fae scrambled to her feet, her Auror training kicking in despite the remnants of fire whiskey in her system. She pulled her wand from her sleeve, its familiar weight steadying her hand. "Expelliarmus!" she called out, and an attacker's wand flew from their grip, clattering against the far wall.
The three of them backed up, finding themselves surrounded as more cloaked figures apparated into the pub. Fae could feel the heat of Severus's shoulder against hers as they stood back-to-back, a momentary team against the encroaching threat.
"Impedimenta!" Remus cast, slowing one attacker's advance, but two more took their place.
"Incarcerous!" Fae followed up, magical ropes binding another assailant who fell to the floor with a muffled curse.
Still, they were being pushed back toward the wall, the space around them growing smaller with each passing second. Sweat beaded on Fae's forehead as she deflected spell after spell, her wand arm beginning to ache with the effort.
"We need to get out of here!" Remus exclaimed, his voice strained as he maintained a shield charm against the barrage.
Fae felt a surge of anger rise within her. She hadn't survived Hogwarts's cursed vaults and Auror training to be cornered in a pub. Something powerful and primal welled up inside her, magic that felt almost tangible coursing through her veins.
"Protego maxima!" she screamed, channeling all her strength into the spell. The words tore from her throat with unexpected force.
A blinding light erupted from her wand, expanding outward in a dome of pure magical energy. The light engulfed the entire room, momentarily turning night into day. The attackers were caught in its path, lifted off their feet by the force of the spell and thrown bodily through the shattered windows and doorway of the Three Broomsticks.
Outside, they landed on the cobblestone street with heavy thuds and groans, some knocked unconscious by the sheer force of the magical blast. The light gradually dimmed, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake.
Fae's arm trembled as she lowered her wand, noticing with alarm that hairline cracks had appeared along its length. The wood seemed to vibrate under her touch, as if the powerful magic had strained it to its limits. She could feel it—her wand couldn't take much more of that kind of magic.
Severus and Remus stared at her, momentary shock evident in their expressions. Even Severus, usually so careful to hide his emotions, couldn't mask his surprise at the display of raw magical power.
"Merlin's beard," Remus whispered, his eyes wide.
Madam Rosmerta cautiously peeked out from behind the counter, her curly hair disheveled and dust coating her usually pristine apron. "Is it over?" she asked nervously, surveying the destruction of her beloved pub with dismay.
Fae didn't answer. Her attention was caught by movement outside—one of the cloaked figures had regained consciousness and was scrambling to their feet, clearly intending to flee. Without thinking, she bolted for the door, leaping over upturned furniture and broken glass.
"Fae!" Remus shouted after her, concern evident in his voice.
"Craft, get back here!" Severus called out, his tone sharp with something that might have been worry beneath the anger.
But Fae was already out the door, the cool night air a shock against her flushed skin as she sprinted after the retreating figure. The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted now, windows dark as residents hid inside at the first signs of trouble. Her footsteps echoed on the cobblestones as she pursued the fleeing attacker.
"Stupefy!" the figure cast over their shoulder, the red light of the spell illuminating the dark street.
"Protego!" Fae deflected it, not breaking stride. "Locomotor Mortis!" she countered, but her target dodged, the spell hitting a nearby barrel which toppled over.
The chase led them down a narrow alleyway, away from the main street. Fae could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears, her breath coming in short gasps. She was gaining on them, their cloak billowing behind them like wings as they ran.
With a final burst of speed, Fae lunged forward, her hand shooting out to grab the hood of the intruder's cloak. She yanked backward, causing them to stumble. In one fluid motion, she spun them around, her wand pointed directly at their face, ready to cast.
But the spell died on her lips as the hood fell back. Fae's eyes widened in shock, and she involuntarily took a step backward. Her wand arm went slack, dropping to her side as disbelief washed over her like ice water. The face before her was familiar—painfully, impossibly familiar—but changed in ways that made her blood run cold.
Red eyes stared back into hers, glowing with an unnatural light in the darkness of the alley. Eyes that had once been the shade of blue.
"B-Brother?!" Fae stuttered in disbelief, her voice barely a whisper in the silent night.