Entitled

Chapter 150

Iris sat in the dimly lit room of requirement, rocking Esmond gently in her arms while little Iris cooed on the floor, her small fingers exploring a blanket.

The room had shaped itself into a cozy haven, with soft lighting and a warm hearth, far removed from the darkness of the war raging outside the castle walls.

But despite the calm atmosphere, there was a palpable tension between her and Severus, who stood a few feet away, staring at the twins with a longing that had become a permanent fixture in his face.

His voice broke the silence, thick with emotion. "It's not fair, Iris," he whispered, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "She's missing everything. Every first step, every laugh... she's missing them grow up. They're her children too."

Iris exhaled slowly, shifting Esmond slightly in her arms as she looked at Severus with those bright green eyes that still unsettled him. There was a cold detachment to her, a sort of protective numbness that had enveloped her ever since Violet had retreated into her mind.

"Severus, I understand your pain," she said, her voice calm but distant. "But if Violet were to come back now, he would sense her immediately. Their connection is too strong, too dangerous. If she returns before the time is right, she will put the entire castle at risk—everyone here, including you, the students, staff, and most importantly the twins."

Severus turned away, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire. His shoulders slumped slightly, betraying just how weary he had become. "I know that," he said softly, "but it doesn't make it any easier." He turned back to her, his eyes pleading.

"I just... I need to see her. I need to talk to her, even if it's just for a moment. I need to hear her voice, to know that she's still there." His voice cracked, the weight of months of separation breaking through the wall of control he had worked so hard to maintain. "Is she safe? Is she still... my Violet?"

Iris sighed and shifted Esmond once again, watching Severus with an expression that was both sympathetic and pragmatic. "She is safe," Iris reassured him, though her tone was more clinical than comforting. "She is in the hiding place, the one I created for her. She's by the river, in the sunshine, with her toes in the water. She's peaceful there. It's the only place where she can truly escape what Tom—what he—has done to her."

Iris's voice grew a little sharper, the frustration of constantly explaining this to him evident. "Severus, you must understand. If I bring her back now, even for a moment, he will feel her presence like a beacon. He will come for her, and the consequences will be catastrophic."

Severus shook his head, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and desperation. "And what about me? What about us?" he demanded, his voice low but filled with pain. "Do you think it's easy for me to come here and see you—you who wears her face, who speaks with her tongue—and not be able to reach her?"

His hands trembled slightly as he spoke, and he gripped the back of a chair for support. "I don't even know if she'll recognize the twins when she finally comes back. Will she even recognize me?"

Iris set Esmond down gently in a makeshift crib conjured by the room, standing up slowly as she approached Severus. "You have to trust me, Severus," she said, her tone softening slightly, though the detachment in her eyes remained. "I know this is hard for you. I know it's unfair. But Violet will come back when the time is right. When it's safe." She placed a hand on his arm, trying to soothe him. "She is still your Violet. She's still their mother. But we must endure for now. For her sake. For all of our sakes."

Severus pulled away from her touch, pacing the small space in agitation. His robes swept the floor as he moved, his mind clearly racing. "Endure," he muttered bitterly, "we've been enduring for months, Iris. How much longer do you expect us to wait? Do you think the Dark Lord is going to simply stop looking for her? For us?"