The corridors of Hogwarts were never truly silent.
Even after midnight, the castle breathed and murmured—its portraits whispering half-dreams, its walls shifting with age-old restlessness.
Yet that night, as Dumbledore carried the unconscious forms of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley toward the hospital wing, the air felt unnaturally still.
Cassius and Severus followed at a measured distance.
Dumbledore's robes swept across the floor like a soft tide, fading into the rhythmic echo of his steps.
Madam Pomfrey appeared the moment the Headmaster pushed open the doors.
Her gasp at the sight of the boys was sharp and immediate.
"Oh, heavens—Mr. Potter again? And Weasley? What in Merlin's name—"
"There was… an incident," Dumbledore said softly, setting Harry down on a bed while Severus laid Ron beside him.
"They've been through much. I trust you can tend to them?"
"Of course I can, but honestly—first-years!" she muttered, bustling off to fetch her vials and bandages. "If they don't stop ending up half-dead every other week, I'll need an entire wing just for Gryffindors!"
Dumbledore's lips twitched faintly.
"I'll leave them in your capable hands, Poppy."
And then he turned to Severus and Cassius, his gaze lingering briefly on the latter.
"Mister Snape, I believe its time you return to your dormitory, Severus is your don't mind. He's… had quite a night."
Cassius merely nodded, his expression unreadable.
Dumbledore left them then, closing the doors behind him with that same quiet grace that seemed to follow him everywhere.
For a moment, neither Snape spoke.
Severus was the first to break the silence.
His voice, though steady, was taut. "You reckless fool. Following Potter and Weasley into that mess, do you have no value for your life?"
Cassius tilted his head.
"I do, and i had it entirely under control, even managed to keep the stone from Voldemort."
"Do not—" Severus caught himself, drawing a slow breath through his nose.
His eyes flicked toward the hospital, then back to his son.
"You have no idea what you've meddled with."
"Oh, I think I do," Cassius said quietly. "I met him, Father. What's left of him, anyway. Twice now in fact."
Severus went utterly still.
"…You saw him."
Cassius nodded.
"A fragment. A shadow of his old self clinging to Quirrell like a parasite. He thought me a friend. Becasue that's how i presented myself"
A faint, humorless smile touched his lips.
"Being his loyal follower to get close enough to strike him down."
The older man's composure cracked.
"You—you tricked him?"
"I betrayed him," Cassius corrected, tone even. "Just when the Stone was within reach. It was easy, really. He's desperate, not clever. Pretty sure his minds not all there anymore."
For a moment, Severus could only stare at him.
Then, quietly, with something like awe, he whispered,
"You have no idea what that means. He will not forget that, Cassius. When he returns—"
"He'll look for someone to blame," Cassius interrupted softly. "And who will he find, I wonder? The boy he thought an ally—or the father who once served him and conveniently produced that boy?"
The corridor outside creaked faintly.
Severus froze, wand twitching toward his sleeve before Cassius raised a hand.
"No one's listening. He's gone."
Severus exhaled slowly.
"…What are you implying?"
Cassius took a step closer.
The torchlight flickered, catching in his dark eyes.
"I'm implying, 'Father', that you need to decide where your true loyalties truly lie. Voldemort, who will see you as an accomplice to my betrayal? Dumbledore, who treats you like a knife to keep sharpened but never trusted? Or me—your flesh and blood?"
Severus flinched, though only slightly.
"You know nothing of loyalty."
"Oh, but I do," Cassius murmured, drawing his wand.
The faint hum of magic building up caused the air to sting a little, subtle but potent.
"It's what binds us all in chains."
"Cassius—what are you—"
"Freeing you."
He raised the wand, speaking softly, in a language that made the air itself tremble.
"Glanna Leinas."
The meaning of the spell was lost on the professor who simply watched a golden light be emitted from Cassius's wand before snaking over to his arm and coiling around it like a snake.
A searing burn ignited in his left arm.
He gasped, clutching it instinctively sliding up the fabric until his most kept secret was exposed, revealing the black serpent of the Dark Mark writhing like something alive.
Then—light.
The golden coiling light descended and began to permeate the skin.
The mark blistered, cracked, and dissolved into nothingness before his eyes, vanishing with a hiss like extinguished flame.
The air went still again.
The curse voldemort placed on all his subordinates as a means to mark them, trace them, and even call upon them like lapdogs was gone.
Severus staggered, panting, staring at the unmarked skin.
"You—what have you done?"
Cassius lowered his wand.
"A precaution," he said simply. "If he ever tries to summon you again, He'll be blasted with a spell. It'll hurt him unless he's prepared for it, a trap if you will. on that Free's you. And marks you, in his eyes, as traitor one whose very contacting results in 'retaliation'."
"You've—" Severus's voice trembled, not with fear but with something rawer. "You've painted a target on my back."
"Better a target on your back," Cassius said softly, "than a leash wrapped around your neck."
For a long time, neither spoke.
Only the crackle of torches and the faint whisper of wind through the windows broke the silence.
Then, finally, Severus looked up.
His dark eyes met his son's.
"You've made a dangerous choice."
"I've made your choice for you," Cassius replied evenly. "I'm not blind, Father. I've watched you serve Dumbledore's cause, looked into what was done under Voldemort's cause—everyone's cause but your own. It's pathetic."
Something flickered in Severus's expression—anger, pride, guilt.
Perhaps all three.
"And what would you have me do? Follow you instead?"
Cassius's lips curved faintly.
The older man's shoulders slumped, a bitter laugh escaping him.
"You sound like your grandmother."
Cassius's gaze sharpened.
"Oh? Which one?"
Severus hesitated, then nodded once, curtly.
"Of course I did."
"Who was she?"
Severus looked away.
His attempt to peer into Cassius's past was backfiring on him.
He tried to gauge if Cassius knew of his other side, to determine his true parentage once and for all, to learn if he was the son of Lily from their one time embracing one another, or the son of another Witch who'd gotten the better of Severus one night managing to dose him with some tonic or potion he couldnt identify.
Cassius was blunt, far blunter than any force Severus had dealt with before, but as he stared down at the young man who so closely resembled his own self, he found himself drawn to staring the boy in the eyes.
The eyes!
They were her eyes!
No doubt about that.
"I can't say i'll follow you, but at the very least i can lend you a hand, when you require... if you prove yourself worthy of receiving it of course."
"He he But of course."