The Fire You Touch

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Chapter 21: The Calm Before The Storm

Heavy snowflakes fell in clumps from the gray sky, lining the ground in marshmallow sheets of white. The air was still with the uncommon silence of winter, as if the snow blanketing the world also muffled all the sounds until you were afraid to even breathe loudly, lest you shatter the still beauty before you. Aeryn shivered and pulled her winter cloak tightly around her body. Hogwarts castle looked like something out of a children's fairy book, with snow icing the turrets and a thousand candles lighting the windows. Inside the castle, the students were snuggled up under the blankets or huddled in their respective common rooms around the roaring fireplaces, laughing with their friends or quietly finishing their homework for Monday. Aeryn had decided to forego the comfort of fire and friends to take a walk and be alone with her thoughts.

Her feet crunched into the snow at the edge of the lake, now frozen over and dusted with white powder. With the toe of her boot, she scraped away the snow, revealing the choked waterweeds frozen in the ice. She thought fleetingly of the giant squid, now slumbering beneath the heavy, frozen shroud of the lake. Do squid dream? she wondered, looking up into the spidering branches of the empty trees. And if they do, what do they dream about? Do they ever yearn, in the dead of winter, to see the sun, and do they ever wonder if they will ever see it again as they hide beneath the ice, unable to break the surface?

A cardinal whistled from a nearby bough, his vibrant red shocking against the snow. He cocked his head at her, flirting his wings, and leapt into the air with a twittering shriek. Aeryn's eyes watched him as he darted away, bright as a drop of blood in the gray sky.

Blood...

Her fingers absently trailed along the deep groove on her left arm, one of her recent acquisitions from her midnight visits to Snape's chambers. She had been sneaking towards the Slytherin dungeon when the malicious giggle of Peeves echoed in the corridor ahead of her. Fortunately, she was still on the main floor, and had flung herself towards the suits of armor lining the wall. But it was a tight squeeze, and as she wriggled her way behind the armor, her arm dragged heavily across a spiked elbow guard. Peeves drifted by without seeing her, but a thin trail of blood had dotted her path to the Slytherin chambers. When she had shown her wound to Snape, he had merely laughed coldly...and, well, the evening had progressed in its usual fashion. He had eventually tapped his wand on her arm to stop the bleeding, but had done nothing to speed the healing process.

After the events of the testing and the Polyjuice Potion, Aeryn had dared to think that he had been warming to her, that in the deepest depths of his heart, he actually had a smidgeon of concern for her, but that hope had died the day the Ministry packed up their little gray boxes and left Hogwarts. The testing had only seemed to deepen Snape's resolve that Aeryn's continued stay at Hogwarts depended entirely on him, and he had not let her forget it for an instant. The bruises coloring her body were more frequent and much deeper. A constant illusion covered her discolored face, although her clothing hid the worst of the damage. He had never literally raised a hand against her, but in the throes of his...passion...he was becoming increasingly violent. One time, Aeryn had been slammed up against the wall with such force she had been unable to draw a full breath for days.

She supposed she could reason it away like a tired, battered wife, saying that ‘he really didn't mean to hurt her,' but that lie was bitter to her tongue. He meant it, just as much as he meant the macabre parody of a kiss he pressed to her lips every night as she left his chambers, a claim of total ownership, a gesture of cruelty and utter contempt that was more painful than a dagger's thrust. All his passion was like that, equally filled with hate and pride. And she...Aeryn squeezed her eyes tightly shut, eyes that burned in their dry sockets. If she was to stay at Hogwarts, she was helpless to fight back, and that realization infuriated her.

She pressed her fingers to her temples wearily. It would probably be best for her if she were back in the common room, surrounded by the laughter and companionship of her friends, but on this dreary Sunday morning, the façade of smiling was too monumental of a task. Harry was already suspicious, that she knew, for she had often caught him staring at her with a worried light in his glass-green eyes. And Hermione—although her dorm mate had not spoken to her again about her midnight excursions, Aeryn often felt a pair of eyes watching her as she stumbled back to her bed with disheveled robe and hair. Even Ron had ceased his usual badgering of her when he noticed the only laughter that fell from her lips was forced and tinny, and did not quite reach the hollowed shadows beneath her eyes.

The crunching of footsteps cut through her thoughts.

"Yeh shouldn't be standin' so close to the edge," grumbled a gruff, familiar voice. "Th'ice isn't quite hard enough yet t' hold yeh."

Aeryn turned to see the giant gamekeeper behind her, holding an enormous bag in one meaty hand. "Hagrid," she said softly. "How are you?"

"Not bad." The burly man brushed his free hand down his beard, sending snowflakes tumbling to the ground. "Seems like I haven't seen yeh in ages."

Aeryn nodded guiltily. "I know." Because of the cold weather and her growing inability to socialize, Aeryn had not visited the gamekeeper's hut in over three weeks. Harry, Ron, and Hermione always visited him every Friday afternoon, but Aeryn had found reasons to bow out of the visits, whether it was a headache or a paper she had to get started on. She pointed to the bag he carried. "What's that for?"

"Got a little somethin' fer the squid," he grunted. "He don't get many visitors in th' winter, ‘n I thought I'd give him a little snack." With a powerful swing, Hagrid tossed the sack across the lake. It sailed through the air until it fell to the ice. There was a muffled crack and a gentle sploosh as the bag splintered through the thin ice and sank to the bottom of the lake.

"Shouldn't you have opened the bag first?" Aeryn asked.

Hagrid shrugged. "Nah. He can untie it himself—it'll give him somethin' t' do." He turned to her, his beetle-black eyes dancing over her form. "Yeh've lost weight," he said gruffly.

The ghost of a smile tugged her lips. "Thanks."

"I don't mean it in a good way," he said sharply. "Yeh look sick, like you've not been eatin'."

Aeryn, alarmed at the metallic edge covering his voice, turned away from him.

When the gamekeeper spoke again, his voice was barely louder than the falling snow. "What's wrong with yeh, Aeryn?"

"Nothing," Aeryn whispered, keeping her eyes turned to the frozen lake. No, Hagrid, not now, don't talk to me about this now, when I can barely hold myself together...

"Nothin' don't put hollows in yer cheeks, or black circles under yer eyes." She heard the crunch of snow as he took a step closer. "Like to try again?"

Aeryn closed her eyes. "Really, Hagrid, it's..." She sighed, a sound that closely resembled a quiet sob. "I'm just exhausted. It's been a hard semester." Carefully, carefully... "I'll be better after Christmas—I'm going home, it'll do me good, a change of scene—"

"Yeah, I know," the gamekeeper interrupted. "Harry told me."

Harry.

Aeryn put a hand to her face. Professor McGonagall had come around Gryffindor Tower last week, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. "Malfoy's staying here over the holiday," Hermione had said as she scribbled her name at the bottom of the parchment. "It's a perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion to get a confession out of him,"

"But wouldn't you guys rather be with your families?" Aeryn had asked despairingly as Harry and Ron added their names. "I mean, that's what Christmas is all about, right? Spending time together with your family?"

"Mum and Dad are going to visit Charlie this Christmas," Ron exclaimed, shaking his fiery head. "Besides, I'd much rather stay here. The Christmas feast is to die for."

"And you couldn't pay me enough to go back to the Dursleys," Harry added flatly. He handed the parchment and the quill to Aeryn. "You're staying here, right? I mean, you don't have any family to go back to."

Aeryn had stared at the quill for a long moment. She wanted to help her friends with the Polyjuice Potion, and the temptation of Christmas at Hogwarts was very strong—but time away from Hogwarts is time away from Snape, a tiny corner of her mind had whispered. And she had to remember what life was like back with the Muggles, to see if she could cope with them again if she decided...as she had been thinking...to leave Hogwarts. She had sadly shaken her head and pushed the parchment away. "Sorry, guys," she had said quietly. "Not this year."

The looks on their faces had dampened any joy she felt at escaping for the winter holiday.

The gamekeeper's meaty hand rested hesitantly on her shoulder. "He's worried sick ‘bout yeh, Aeryn."

Aeryn shook her head wordlessly.

"Yer like a big sister t' him, didja know thet?" There was true concern in Hagrid's voice, and to hear it was like having forty-grit sandpaper rubbed against her skin. "He adores yeh. He told me thet spendin' that week with yeh at yer place was one of th' best times he's ever had, and thet kid has had precious few things t' smile about in his life, Lord knows."

Aeryn bit her lip.

"He'd bend over backwards t' help yeh, yeh know he would," continued the gamekeeper. "An' so would Ron and Hermione—they're just kids, but they're loyal, an' I know that no matter what it is—"

"Hagrid." His name tore from her throat, as raw and harsh as a bleeding wound. "Stop. Please." She pulled away from him, not wanting him to feel her shuddering.

There was a long silence, broken only by the low whistle of a cardinal. "What's wrong, Aeryn?" Hagrid asked, and his voice was troubled.

Aeryn bowed her head. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

Her eyes stung. "Because you can't help me," she whispered.

Hagrid put his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. "Then talk t' someone who kin help yeh." The warm weight of his touch was suffocating. "Like Dumbledore, no matter what it is—"

"No!" Aeryn tore herself from Hagrid's grip and whirled to face him. "Not Dumbledore. Of all people, not him."

The gamekeeper stared at her, his beetle-black eyes wide and distressed. "Aeryn, what—"

She sliced a hand through the air, cutting off his words. "No." Her control was slipping; she could hear the quaver bleeding into her words. "Please believe me when I say that I can handle this."

Hagrid held out a hand. "Aeryn—"

"Please don't mention this conversation to Harry," Aeryn said harshly, and without another word, turned and ran back to the castle before the gamekeeper could see the unshed tears welling up in her eyes.

* * *

Hermione shook her head as they sat in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, looking at the half-finished Polyjuice Potion. "We still need the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin," she said, running an eye down the list of ingredients. "And the only place we're going to get them is in Snape's private stores."

Ron and Harry gulped simultaneously.

"Are you suggesting," Aeryn said slowly, "that we rob his office?"

"Consider it seizing an opportunity," Hermione said briskly. "It'll be simple. We can even do it tomorrow—all we need is a diversion, and then one of us can sneak into his office and take what we need."

Harry and Ron looked at her nervously.

"I think Aeryn and I'd better do the actual stealing," Hermione continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "You two will be expelled if you get into any more trouble, and we've—save for a few points taken away for being out after hours—got a clean record." She looked pointedly at Aeryn. "So all you two need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so."

"No," Aeryn exclaimed flatly as Harry and Ron smiled at each other feebly.

Hermione glared at her. "Why not?"

"Because it would be safer to poke a sleeping dragon in the eye, that's why!" Aeryn snapped. Considering the way Snape had been acting recently, if he caught them robbing his storeroom, they'd all wind up expelled or worse.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't overreact, Aeryn. Honestly, you are such a worry-wart, nothing is going to happen."

Aeryn bristled and pinched her lips shut before she could lash out at the girl.

"I think I'd rather face Slytherin's legendary monster," Harry whispered weakly to her as they exited the bathroom, and Aeryn couldn't disagree with him.

* * *

Snape paused and looked into Harry's cauldron. "Did you use water to thicken your Swelling Solution, Potter? Surprise me someday, and attempt to do something right for once." He glared into Aeryn's neighboring cauldron without a word, and then turned and walked off to bully Neville Longbottom.

Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded. Harry ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulling one of Fred Weasley's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket. He prodded it quickly with his wand, and the firework began to fizz and sputter. Aeryn gritted her teeth as Harry straightened up, took aim, and lobbed the spitting projectile across the room into Goyle's cauldron.

Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of dinner plates—

"C'mon, Aeryn," Hermione hissed, grabbing her hand. The two girls hurriedly slipped into Snape's office amidst the cries of their fellow students.

Hermione immediately made a beeline for Snape's long row of cupboards. "I'll get the boomslang skin," she said, throwing open a door. "Try the cupboard to my left for the bicorn horn—it looks like this is all in alphabetical order, and this cupboard begins with BL."

Aeryn ran her eyes down the meticulously stenciled labels until she found what she was looking for. "Got it," she whispered, grabbing the tiny jar holding two pearly-white spikes and holding it out to Hermione. "You take it, I don't have any pockets in this robe."

"SILENCE!" Snape roared outside. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft! The rest of you, take your seats!"

"That's our signal," muttered Hermione, and she and Aeryn slid back into the dungeon.

Aeryn glanced over at the boys as the class, with various oversized body parts, lined up for a swig of antidote. Harry was positively pale, and Ron's face was twisted in fright. Aeryn followed their gaze to the front of the room. Professor Snape was standing at the front of his desk with his arms folded, his eyes blistering straight into the two boys. But his face was uncommonly calm, as if he was merely a disinterested observer taking note of the goings-on.

Once the students had deflated to their usual size and taken their seats, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush as the Potions Master slowly turned the charred object in his hands.

"Well," he said finally, in a voice totally devoid of emotion. "This is a very interesting turn of events."

The class was silent.

"Longbottom, stand up."

Neville Longbottom's face drained of color. Aeryn and everyone else knew that he was more frightened of Professor Snape than anything else in the world. But to refuse a direct request from the Potions Master was tantamount to sticking your head down the maw of a dragon, so he hesitantly rose to his feet. Snape slowly strode over to him, his black robes swirling as he held the firework very carefully in one hand.

"You did this, didn't you," he said quietly.

Neville gulped loudly. "N-no—no, s-sir," he replied, trembling.

Snape held the charred firework beneath his nose. "I think you're lying to me, Longbottom."

"No, p-professor, you l-looking at my potion when—"

The professor towered over the small second year, his face still dangerously bland. "I imagine your grandmother will be less than pleased when she receives note of this afternoon's little event."

Neville was quaking so hard that he looked as if he would shake to pieces at any moment. "Sir, no, I d-didn't do it—"

"Better pack up your things at once, little Gryffindor," Snape said calmly. Neville was close to tears now, his pale face flushed and his breath coming in short little gasps. "Because I'm going to the headmaster's office right after class and—"

"Stop it!" Harry yelled, leaping to his feet. "Leave Neville alone!"

Silence descended upon the room like a black curtain. Snape turned away from Neville and fixed Harry with a long, languid stare. "What was that, Potter?"

"I did it," Harry said immediately. "It was my fault. Now leave Neville alone."

Hermione flinched, Ron sucked in a sharp breath, and Aeryn's jaw clenched. It was never safe to challenge the Potions Master, this she knew from experience, and alarm bells began to peal warningly in her brain for her brave friend.

Snape's coal-black eyes did not even flicker. "Ah, yes. I should have known. The famous Mr. Potter." Ignoring the cowering Neville, Snape advanced towards Harry. "Always the troublemaker. You're so much like your father, did you know that? You've got that same incorrigible Gryffindor spirit, that same penchant for breaking rules...James always did think he was a cut above everyone else..."

"Don't talk about my dad that way," Harry said sharply, his thin hands curling into fists.

The Potions Master's face remained impassive. "I don't think you're in the best position to judge your father, Potter," he said. "It might do you some good to hear a bit of the truth for once, rather than that pretentious trash that everyone keeps filling your mind with—"

"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled.

The Potions Master's lips firmed in a line of displeasure. No one dared to move or breathe, but the alarms ringing in Aeryn's head had turned into full-fledged sirens.

Snape slowly shook his head from side to side. "Extremely unwise, Potter," he said in a very, very quiet voice.

Oh no...

"Crabbe, Goyle." Malfoy's two goons lumbered out of their seats. "Secure Potter so he can't run away."

Harry did not move as Crabbe and Goyle grabbed his arms and held him fast. The two Slytherins were enormous for their age, and Harry looked very small and delicate between them.

Snape lifted a crystal phial from his desk and sauntered over to Harry's cauldron. "Do you know what happens when one imbibes Swelling Solution, Potter?" He dipped the phial into the cauldron, looking back at Harry and raising an eyebrow.

Harry remained silent.

"Come now, Potter, it's a little late to be playing dumb." Snape lifted the vial, filled to the brim with Harry's watery concoction. "When the potion is prepared correctly, a Swelling Solution produces a result similar to an Engorgement Charm." He held the vial up in the air, being careful not to drip the solution over himself. "However, your potion seems to be light on several essential ingredients—puffer-fish eyes and feverfew spring to mind. I must admit, I am unsure of the reaction this potion will cause. Perhaps your inner organs will swell, but the rest of your body will remain the same size." The merest grin ghosted his lips. "Well, we shall soon find out, won't we?"

As Snape stepped towards him, Harry began to kick, and Crabbe and Goyle's fingers tightened around his arms. Aeryn's fingers curled against her seat, her knuckles turning pale.

"On the desk," the Potions Master said calmly.

Crabbe and Goyle threw the struggling Harry over Snape's desk, pressing him firmly against the tabletop. Snape bent over the boy and pried his mouth open with his long fingers. "Drink it all, now," he murmured, positioning the vial over Harry's lips.

"NO!!!"

Aeryn launched herself from her chair and tackled the Potions Master to the floor, telekinetically tearing the phial from his fingers and smashing it harmlessly against the stone wall. She pinned his arms to the ground, her face bare inches away from his. "You promised!" she screamed into his face. "Whatever problems you have with my friends, you take it out on me, not them!"

A snarl erupted from between Snape's lips and he heaved her off him. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing for the wand at his belt, but Aeryn pulled it away from him with a hiss. Snape raised his hand, but Aeryn was faster, and her fist shot out and slammed into his solar plexus.

Snape doubled over, clutching his chest. Aeryn dropped into a defensive crouch as her eyes skittered nervously about the classroom. Harry had gotten free of Crabbe and Goyle and was standing in a corner with Ron and Hermione. Slytherins and Gryffindors alike stared in horror at their folded Potions Master. Snape growled, his coal-black eyes now flaming with rage, and lunged towards Aeryn.

"Haiii!"

she shrieked, windmilling her leg and kicking the professor across the face. There was a loud riiip as her skirt tore, severely hindering the force of her blow, but it was enough to knock Snape against the wall. Aeryn leapt back and danced around the desk to put some distance between her and the Potions Master.

"Sangusfero!" came a sudden cry behind her.

Something smacked between her shoulder blades, and singeing warmth erupted through her body. For a moment, Aeryn tried to stand, to hold her ground—but the instant she moved, burning pain shot through her muscles and she crumpled to the floor in agony. She looked up and saw Draco Malfoy standing above, pointing his wand at her.

The little bastard... used a Fireveins Curse...oh, God...She groaned, curling into a small ball.

There was a rustle as Snape got unsteadily to his feet. The entire left side of his face was already starting to darken where she had struck him. "Accio," he whispered through a blooded mouth, and his wand flew into his hand. He leveled the slender stick of wood at Aeryn. "Mensus geluso," he muttered in a cold voice. It was as if a large hand had suddenly reached into Aeryn's head and squeezed, cutting off the circulation to half her brain...the mutant half, she realized instantly when she probed for her powers.

Snape walked over to her. He bent and grabbed the bodice of her robe, jerking her to a standing position. With cool, emotionless eyes that never left hers, he backhanded her cruelly across the face once, twice, three, four, five times, each blow rocking her head from side to side.

The bell rang shrilly.

"Go," Snape whispered in a horrible voice, and the students flew as one for the door. Aeryn remained locked in his grasp, his chilling glare blistering into her as her head reeled from his blows. If she remained still, the pain was dormant, but the second she lifted a finger, it felt like liquid bleach had been poured into her veins.

A sudden movement caught the corner of her eye. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood beside her, clenching their wands in their fists.

"Are you going to let her go?" asked Harry through clenched teeth.

Snape's eyes, still fixed on Aeryn, flashed dangerously. "Tell your friends to leave," he hissed to her. "Unless, of course, you would prefer them to be carried out of here on stretchers."

"Guys, do what he says," Aeryn croaked, doing her best not to move her jaw. "Now."

The three of them held their ground. Harry clenched his wand even tighter. "Let her go, Snape."

For a moment, all was still. Then, like a lightning bolt, the Potions Master let go of Aeryn and whirled to face Harry, his wand raised and his face twisted in rage—Harry flinched back—Hermione and Ron's wands jerked up—Snape reared, his thin lips moving to cast a spell—and Aeryn flung herself onto him, a scream escaping her lips as jags of pain burst through her body.

"Get out of here!" she shrieked to her horrified friends, twisting Snape's wand hand behind his back until his fingers spasmed open in agony. "Go, now!"

"I'm not leaving—" Harry began bravely, but this time, Ron and Hermione listened to Aeryn. They each grabbed one of Harry's arms and dragged him from the room, their faces white.

Aeryn kicked Snape's wand beneath his desk an instant before the Potions Master pulled from her grasp and, with a roar of fury, elbowed her sharply in the stomach. Aeryn doubled up in pain, and Snape was suddenly upon her, his fists smashing into her face and body with superhuman force. Aeryn tried to shield herself, to attack back with a well-placed kick or punch, but it was like trying to stop a tornado. His fist connected solidly with her jaw, and the force threw her backwards against one of the student desks. The tabletop splintered beneath her and she crashed to the floor, the breath knocking from her lungs.

Snape stood over her, his lips pulled away from his teeth in a feral snarl. One of Aeryn's flailing hands had clawed a gash across his cheekbone, and blood was pouring down his cheek in a scarlet curtain. "How dare you," he whispered, his coal-black eyes filled with fire. The calm had broken; the full storm of his wrath was written across his face. "How dare you attack me, you little bitch?"

She felt like she had been crumpled up like a sheet of paper and then smoothed back out, but, lying on the ground with the splinters of the desk digging into her back and blood gushing from her mouth and nose, Aeryn began to shake in silent, helpless laughter. "You...motherfucker," she gasped. It hurt to breathe. "Did you honestly think...I would sit quietly by and watch you...hurt my friends?"

Snape wiped a rivulet of blood from his jawline. "You went too far this time, Blake," he hissed.

"Then go...get Dumbledore...expell me like you've been...threatening to do." The fingers of her right hand slowly curled around a broken-off table leg. "I've been an idiot to let this go on...for as long as it has...but I sure as hell...won't be a bigger idiot...by letting it continue." Her eyes watered as she imperceptibly tensed the muscles in her legs. "This...ends now."

Snape laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "End?" he asked scornfully. "Oh no, my dear. You've attacked a teacher—and, considering what you are, it won't be too terribly difficult to link you to the attacks on the cat and Creevey." His face was demonic. "Once I tell Ministry what you really are, they'll bring the dementors in for you. Ever heard of Azkaban? Or the Dementor's Kiss?" His coal-black eyes glittered. "They'll be onto you like flies onto honey."

"Bring it on," she spat, tasting iron as her mouth filled with blood. Her muscles were screaming as pain coursed through her every movement, but she forced herself to stay alert. "But you're going down with me...you son of a bitch." Nothing she said would make him listen, she knew that, but she had to keep him talking. "Do you think...after all you've done to me...that you're going to get away with it?"

The Potions Master shrugged. "Probably not. To tell you the truth, I would be shocked if I did." His lips curled in amusement. "But that problem can be easily remedied." His arm snapped up and his wand flew into his hand.

"You can't tell them if you're dead," he said evenly, with stoic, lucid eyes.

The overly lucid eyes of a madman,

Aeryn thought distantly.

His sallow face was flushed as he leveled the wand at her. "Adieu, adieu, Miss Blake—parting can be such sweet sorrow."

Aeryn's muscles tensed.

"Avada Ked—"

She launched herself from the floor and swung the table leg with all her might. The heavy piece of wood connected solidly with the Potions Master's head, cutting off his curse as cleanly as if she had severed his tongue with a knife—the Fireveins Curse roared in her blood, causing her to stumble—she gritted her teeth, fighting the pain—Snape's wand raised again, his face twisted into a mask of rage—Aeryn drove the table leg into his face again, and again, and again—he fell to the floor with a groan, his wand skittering across the floor—he frantically scrabbled to retrieve it—Aeryn coldly lifted the leg above her head and sent it smashing into the back of his skull.

There was a loud crunch. Snape crumpled on the ground like a limp rag and did not move.

The room was deafeningly silent.

The piece of wood clattered from her hands, and Aeryn stumbled backwards. The Fireveins Curse throbbed through her shattered body with every movement, and a moan escaped her lips as she fell back against the wall, fighting back the nausea swimming through her. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she probed for her mutant powers, but there was only blankness.

I've just killed a teacher...

A trickle of blood slowly oozed from beneath Snape's greasy black hair, pooling on the stone floor.

She had to get to the hospital wing. When her mutant powers returned—if her mutant powers returned—she could move herself and Snape out of the dungeons, to the infirmary—or she could contact Dumbledore, or Professor McGonagall, or someone telepathically, tell them what happened, get some help...

Oh, God, I've just killed a teacher...

A hiss of escaped breath cut through her thoughts. Aeryn's watering eyes turned to the folded form on the ground. The Potions Master's hand twitched slowly, then spidered out across the stone floor and began to grope around him.

Panic flooded through her. As Snape's fingertips brushed up against his wand, Aeryn threw herself towards the dungeon door, clumsily pulling it open and staggering into the hallway. She forced herself up the staircase, agony riddling her every step, and burst onto the main floor. She was panting, her chest heaving fiercely, and she blindly lurched through the twists and turns of the passageways, her tortured imagination hearing the footfalls of the Potions Master behind her.

Once he caught her, he would kill her, no doubt about that—she had to get out—find someplace safe—

She limped through the long stone entranceway and pushed open the heavy oak door. A burst of cold wind and snow smashed into her face. Aeryn hesitated for only a second, then staggered out onto the castle lawn, scrunching her face up against the storm as she hurried into the passageway to the underground harbor. If she could get a boat—she could row across the lake, at least get her out of Hogwarts, she would figure it out from there—

The wind tugged fiercely at her robe as she stumbled down the rocky shore. The pain wracking her body was almost unendurable now. She was certain more than one of her ribs was broken, and several teeth in her bloody mouth were loose. As she raised a trembling hand to wipe her bleeding nose, a particularly nasty twinge echoed in her muscles and she tumbled to the rocks, whimpering.

There were no boats at the harbor, and Aeryn almost wept with despair. But, as the wind bit into her skin, she remembered that it was winter, and a glimmer of hope sprung into her agonized brain. Aeryn crawled to the water, putting her hands against the half-formed ice. It was thicker than it looked, and might hold her weight. With a backward glance over her shoulder, Aeryn dropped to all fours and started across the ice.

The snow whirled about her, buffeting her bruised skin like a swarm of bees. The blood soaking her robe cooled instantly and clung to her body. Aeryn's knees and hands became numb as she slushed across the lake—her head reeled, and her vision was a blurred field of white—pain echoed her every move, and the breath sobbed from her throat as she pulled herself forward—

There was a soft splintering sound, like a cloth-wrapped glass being tapped by a hammer. The ice beneath her hand suddenly gave away, and Aeryn plunged into the lake with a terrified scream.

The frigid water hit her body like a horrible slap, and she gasped, flailing her limbs to stay afloat. But the Fireveins Curse lightninged through her body, and her movements slowed as her robe filled with water, pulling her down. Her head slipped under the water, and she was spinning in the sub-zero waters, her heart pounding madly in her ears, and it was so hard to move...so hard...black spots began to dance before her eyes...she could feel the oxygen burning from her lungs as she sank lower and lower...