Dark Coil

Dark Coil

Chapter Ten

Picking Up the Gauntlet

Olivia slipped through the night, her furred paws making no sound on the damp ground. The creaking trees, the moaning wind--all of these registered in her tufted ears as safe sounds. The smells of night creatures dashing from her path were all normal nocturnal scents, nothing to fear.

The steady footsteps behind her, the hot odor of the one that followed, these were the things from which she fled. They had been her constant companions over the past few hours, ever since she had foolishly taken up the challenge he had tossed down. If she hadn't been so angry, so humiliated, she would be in her chambers right now, not running in fear through the Forbidden Forest.

Her ribs continued to cause her pain, even in this non-human form. The burn running down one foreleg forced her to limp, blood oozing from the raw flesh. Two more reasons to rip out his throat. With the damage to her arm and ribs, changing into an owl would be useless, flight impossible. Olivia was no mediwitch and her injuries were beyond her skill for healing. If she could get to water, she could change into an aquatic creature. Water was close. She could smell it. Whether it led back to the castle or not, at least she would be safer than on land. He would be unable to follow her under the water. She could hide out until dawn.

Olivia moved from shadow to shadow, her feline form well adapted to nighttime stealth. Her whiskers twitched, sending messages along taut nerve endings as her body passed through thickets of deadfall and tightly backed brambles. The earth vibrated with the muffled tread of her pursuer's footsteps.

He was close.

He moved with animal cunning. This one was no novice to the hunt.

She could smell his body. The scent of him rode the breeze like a scorching smoke. It made her eyes and sensitive nostrils sting. The delicate organ inside her mouth tasted the bitterness of him on the air. Anger rolled off of him in putrid waves. The anger did not control him, however. There was something else, something that frightened her more than his anger. She could smell his excitement, the dark pleasure he took from the hunt. He was enjoying the chase, was looking forward to the kill.

Glowing eyes scanned the clearing. She estimated that about thirty-five yards of open space remained to be crossed before reaching the safety of the stream. Raising her muzzle to the breeze, she tasted the air. His scent lingered, iron and blood, bitter in her mouth. Where was he?

She waited…

There was no sound save the wind in the branches, the patter of water over stone. Gathering her body beneath her, Olivia made ready to bolt for the safety of the stream.

In a burst of desperation, the lynx broke from concealment, the compact body stretched full out, the wide paws a blur as they flew over the leaf littered ground.

She saw the brilliant flash of light, attempted to dodge, but it caught her high on the right hip, flinging the tawny body into the air. Olivia's scream cut the air.

She was up and running as soon as her pain-wracked body made contact with the earth, survival instinct sending her pelting back into the dense wood. Olivia wanted to bash her fists against the ground in her frustration and rage. Why did he do this? Didn't he think she had taken enough? Did he truly mean to kill her? She wondered now if she would live to see the rising sun.

The wound on her hip throbbed. Carefully, she licked the blood away, examining the damage. She ached everywhere. She desperately wanted to find a hole, crawl inside and tend to her wounds. So tired...

Rest was not an option. She had to keep on. Elude him until the dawn.

Twice she had managed to circle around behind him. Both times he had closed her escape route, firing off spells that caused her to scream in pain and rage. Circling back was no longer an option. Her green eyes scanned the trees. There was no moon tonight. No bright enemy to reveal her location. This time she would not go back. She would go up.

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He watched as Olivia made her painful way back into the relative safety of the trees.

He blended away into the shadows, dark upon dark.

I am one acquainted with the night…

Yes, the dark wizard and the dark night were old, dear friends. Darkness allowed him to hide within its robes. In the sunless comfort of shadow and gloom, Snape could move undetected, his actions hidden. He could even lie to himself about deeds vile and base as long as he kept them in the dark. Hidden by velvet curtains of night, he could deny their very existence.

In the dark, there was familiarity, safety.

Light offered him nothing but glaring reality. It sprang into the shadows where he chose to hide both himself and the horrors he had created. The light exposed corners and crannies, burning away the gloom, revealing his life for what it truly was.

Empty.

Oh, there were a few scattered odds and ends lying about on the floor. Aged tomes and rolls of parchment signified his life's work, their leaves torn and curled. The corpses of victims he had not been able to forget were sprawled across the floor. In the darkness, he could not see how empty was the room of his life. As he stumbled upon the same objects over and over again in the dark, he could pretend that his life was full of items such as these, could pretend that the room was furnished with more. It was a lie he could live with, had to live with. What other choice did he have?

So he shunned the light. He had been content and satisfied.

Until the light had come looking for him.

Olivia

.

She had been a persistent thorn in his side since the night he kissed her in the library. It drove him crazy that she now seemed to mark him her very own piece of property to torment and tease at a whim.

And be damned, she seemed to whim constantly.

He never knew when a little ditty or a dinner invitation would appear in his calendar.

Who'ya doing…cancel that. Meant to ask, what'cha doin' tonight?

And she was forever giving him…things.

Right after start of term, unusual items began to appear on his desk, outside the office door, delivered by school owl. Nothing much, really. Just irritating. A small lavender flower pressed between two scented pieces of rice paper. A glass jar, the Slytherin crest painted on the side and filled with gummy worms. A dragon-hide bound book of Muggle love poems, the blood-red bookmark placed at Shakespeare's sonnet, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds…" He nearly gagged. While Olivia never mentioned these gifts, he just knew they were from her.

What drove him into a near head-bashing frenzy was her insistence upon touching him. She didn't limit herself to covert groping under the staff room table. Oh no. She touched him openly, boldly. Passing behind his chair during meals, she would allow her fingers to caress the velvet covering his shoulders as her voice purred a soft hello. During a staff meeting she startled everyone present by placing her hand over his while asking him a question. He had seen the shock and alarm on the faces of the rest of the teachers as they waited to see his reaction to this brazen act. Maxwell Dillard had even licked his red lips in anticipation of Snape's scathing response.

None came.

"Got him on the run, she does," chortled tiny Professor Flitwick as he and Professors Sprout and Binns exited the staff room.

They watched in amusement as Miss McGonagall cheerily called after a retreating Snape, "So, I will see you later."

"No, you will not!"

Sprout nodded her gray head sagely, "He'll be shagging her before Halloween."

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"Excuse me, Professor Snape?"

Snape's head jerked up from the lesson plans he was reviewing for the next batch of brain dead.

"Miss Granger, haven't you taken up enough of my time today?" he asked in a strained voice, returning his eyes to the parchment.

"I have something I need to tell you," Hermione whispered.

The seventh year moved closer to the professor's desk, her mouth working, but no sound came forth.

"Well?" he snapped impatiently. "Oh please, are you trying to tell me someone has finally developed a spell to shut you up?" He knew he had hurt the girl as her eyes misted over, and he hated himself for the part he had to play.

Hermione looked down at her twisting fingers. She had thought about what she would say to Professor Snape for such a long time. She had tried to find the right words to let him know he needn't worry about her discussing what she had seen and heard. And he was being...well, he was being himself.

"Sir, I have to admit--well, that is to say..."

"Spit it out, Granger!" Snape brought his fist crashing to the desktop.

" I can't! I'm afraid of you!" Hermione wailed; she dropped her books and covered her face with her hands.

Snape's mouth fell open. Realizing his error, he closed it with a snap that caused his teeth to hurt. Striding around the desk, he moved to the door, checked for eavesdroppers and closed the door with a gentle click.

"Now, Miss Granger, perhaps you will tell me what has you so frightened." Snape was using a voice Hermione had not heard before.

"I'm sorry, sir," she sniffed, wiping her eyes with her robe sleeve. "It's just that I wanted you to know… I would never tell anyone, ever." Her eyes darted to his then away, timid yet determined to see this through.

"I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Miss Granger. I don't know what you are talking about."

"The other night, in the library--" Hermione paused as Snape reared back, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "It was me. I was the one in the Invisibility Cloak. I shouldn’t have listened..."

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place!" he broke in with a snarl.

"Yes sir, I know, sir. I pestered Harry and he lent me the cloak. There was this book you see..."

Snape whirled away from her and moved behind his desk, once more the teacher and the student. "So, why do you come telling me this now? I had no way of discovering which of the brave and noble Gryffindors was out after curfew. What do you expect to gain by coming forward at this time?" His tone was insulting, droll.

Hermione's head snapped up and she met his gaze. "I didn't come for me, sir. I came for you."

He cocked one black eyebrow skeptically.

"Sir, I just wanted to put your mind at ease, you know, just in case you were worried...

I haven't said anything to anyone, I never will. I just wanted you to know that." Her eyes were so open, honest, he was taken back.

"Why have you not told anyone, Miss Granger?" His voice was like black ice. He felt he had her on this one.

"I wouldn't ever do anything to hurt you, sir."

Snape stared at the young woman before him. He was neither shocked nor surprised by her honesty. He had taught her for seven years after all, seven long years, but in all that time she had never lied to him...that he knew of.

He surprised her by extending his hand. She took it.

He rocked her world when he raised her hand to his lips and upon her creamy fingers, placed a kiss.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. I accept your word."

Snape observed the student's reaction. She stared at her hand in a...he couldn't quite name the emotion.

When in doubt, rely on habit. "You will probably want to wash that as soon as possible," he advised her coldly.

Hermione snatched the hand to her chest, holding it fast with the other. She smiled a tiny bit as she regarded the stern visage of her Potions Master.

"No sir. I think I will leave it right where it is for now." Picking up her books, she politely bade him good day and left him standing alone.

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His chambers were no longer a safe haven of peace and rest. Several times a week Olivia would come calling. She told him she liked to visit.

"May I come in?"

His head snapped up from the essay he was grading. He couldn't believe his eyes! She had actually opened his door! No knock, no nothing. Just turn the knob and waltz right in why don't you?

"As you can easily see, I am occupied."

"Oh, that's okay. I'll be quiet." She glided into the room and had the gall to settle herself on the couch, gazing curiously about the room.

Snape pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes. "Miss McGonagall..."

"Olivia."

"Miss McGonagall," he ground out, "It is considered good manners to actually wait until you are invited before entering a room."

"Oh my! Is that your cat?" Olivia jumped up and moved quickly across the room where Cat had just emerged from Snape's bedchamber. He was blinking his eyes owlishly and stretching the kinks from his tail when Olivia scooped the gray and white tabby into her arms. "What a lovely boy you are," she crooned.

Cat responded to her assault by falling limp, squeezing his eyes shut and breaking into thunderous purring.

Traitorous bag of fur, Snape snarled in his head.

"What's his name?" Olivia looked up at Snape, her face buried in Cat's white belly, blowing kisses through his fur.

"Cat."

"I know he is a cat, Severus. But what is his name?"

Sighing heavily, Snape pushed his work aside and replied in a patient, patronizing tone. "His name is Cat. I have no intention of keeping him, so why should I bother giving him a name?"

"So, he is not yours?"

"I believe that is what I said."

"How long have you had him? He is a big boy, yes, you are," she added, talking baby-talk to the animal again. "You are a big kitty..."

She addressed Cat's navel (if there was one, under all that hair). Cat had dissolved completely and Snape would not have been surprised to see the contents of his furry little head come leaking from the pointed black ears.

Gods, the animal was actually drooling!

"He has been with me for seven months. Now, would you please put him down before he drowns in his own saliva?"

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From that night on, Olivia invaded his private domain at every opportunity. Frequently using Cat as an excuse, Olivia would arrive bearing gifts pilfered from the house elves. Snape lectured Cat about trusting strangers bearing gifts, but the animal merely burped goose liver and collapsed before the fire. At other times, she would come with a particularly interesting article on Potions or some other topic she felt he would pique Snape's curiosity.

To make matters worse, Olivia discovered the red chopstick standing in the ink well on his desk.

"How did this get here?" she asked, picking up the shiny stick, smiling as he attempted to formulate some type of scathing reply.

"I found it in my parcels after you engineered our fall in Hogsmeade."

"And you kept it? That's sweet, Severus."

"There is nothing sweet about it, Miss McGonagall. I simply have not had the time to return it to you, nothing more." She still smiled at him, those shining green eyes laughing at his transparent lie.

"You have a lot of nice little treasures tucked away here," she told him, poking at the dried flowers and various other things with the glittering red stick. Obviously fishing for compliments or thanks, he thought. Snape's lip curled in a sneer, but Olivia went on. "Yum! I didn't know you liked gummy worms. I haven't had one in years. May I?"

He nodded watching as she pried off the lid, selected a candy and passed the open jar to him. Snape pulled out a sticky green and yellow worm and jamming on the top, returned the jar to its place.

"Cool jar. I like the design. Where did you get it?" Olivia asked around the rubbery treat.

"Hm, it was a gift." He observed her closely. He was beginning to have an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Olivia picked up the book of sonnets.

"This is nice. You like Shakespeare?"

"He has his moments," Snape replied.

Returning the book to the desk, Olivia rolled her eyes at him and snorted in disbelief.

"So, these were student gifts?" she inquired while continuing to rummage about.

Snape folded his arms across his chest and glared at the curious witch going through his things. Had she no impulse control at all? And such a bad liar. "Come now, Miss McGonagall…"

She glanced up quickly and flashed him a smile. "Olivia."

"You may give up your little game. I thank you for each of these items, especially the worms, but I ask that you refrain from sending me gifts in the future."

Olivia popped open the Slytherin jar and pulled out a second worm. "I hate to break this to you, big guy, but I didn't send you any of this stuff." She snapped the head off the candy worm and grinned.

"Of course you sent it," he insisted. She was trying to play him for a fool.

"Of course I did not," Olivia answered, laughing. "You were getting little favors and you thought they were from me! Oh, that's precious."

She skipped around the desk, stopped behind his chair and threw her arms around his neck. Olivia placed her cheek against skin rough with stubble and whispered into his ear.

"Severus, you have a secret admirer!"

"That is preposterous!" he declared. "I refuse to believe you didn't send these things. And now you are playing some silly game."

Keeping her arms about his neck, Olivia slid around and deposited her bottom in the professor's lap. "Truly, Severus," she spoke low, green eyes locked to black. "The only item belonging to me is the stick. I promise," she raised her hand as though taking an oath, "that I did not send you any of those gifts. None. Zip! Zilch! Nada!"

He read the truth in her eyes. She was not lying. Taking Olivia by the shoulder he removed her from his lap. He rose and began to collect each of the items, tossing them in the dust bin by the desk.

Olivia cried out, horrified. "What are you doing? No, stop!"

"I don't want these things! I thought they were gifts from you...but...Well, anyway. I do not care to keep these around."

"Severus, how could you? Someone went to considerable trouble to get these things to you. How dare you treat their thoughtfulness with contempt!" Olivia continued to scold as she retrieved the gifts from the dust bin and returned them to his desk. "Someone, a student perhaps, thought enough of you, cared enough for you, to select and send each and every one of these...gifts." Her voice became soft, her eyes pleading with him to understand this unseen giver of gifts. "This, this is something wonderful, Severus. Don't toss it away."

She flogged him in a ripping game of UNO and when she swept from his chambers hours later, the small collection of gifts had been moved to a spot on the fireplace mantle.

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She ran everywhere.

Literally ran.

It seemed that Olivia had taken up the Muggle ritual of exercise. Between classes she could be seen jogging up and down the various staircases and sprinting along the vast galleries. It wasn't just the fact that she ran that irked Snape. It was what she wore, or more truthfully, what she didn't wear that set his teeth on edge and caused the eyes of the majority of the male population of Hogwarts to pop from their sockets. On her runs through the school, Olivia would garb herself in skimpy Muggle T-shirts and trousers so short and tight, Snape was sure they were illegal somewhere. The fact that she caused a traffic jam whenever her half-naked form jogged around a corner obviously never entered her mind. With her long hair tied back and the firm muscles of her legs displayed in a most immodest manner, Olivia would run on, leaving chaos in her wake. After one particularly nasty traffic problem which left several Hufflepuff youths tangled in their book bags and robes, sprawled on the floor, Snape decided to take the matter to the headmaster.

"Headmaster, something must be done about Miss McGonagall," he declared in his most self-righteous tone.

"What has Olivia done now, Severus?" Dumbledore had asked politely, sipping his tea. He already knew the answer. Dumbledore was aware of Olivia's routine and the impact her lithe form had had on the males in the student body. He was also aware of the impact she had had on a certain Potions instructor.

"Really, Albus," Snape ran fingers through his hair in frustration. "If she insists on engaging in this health kick, can't she at least put on some clothes?"

Dumbledore had chuckled at Snape's predicament. It simply wasn't common in the wizarding community to display so much… well, flesh. But Olivia's intentions were innocent and harmless. He said as much to the flustered Snape.

"Severus, dear boy, if her exercise troubles you so much, may I suggest you not look?"

"Not look? Not look? How can one not look when she is darting about the school practically naked? She is wreaking havoc on the male students. They can barely keep their minds on studies as it is. And now with your niece flaunting..."

"Now, Severus. I don't believe Olivia is, hmmm, flaunting anything. She runs for the sheer pleasure of it. I wish I had her stamina. She is doing well with her students. They are being challenged and from all reports, they are rising to that challenge. Again, if her habits disturb you, avert your eyes." Dumbledore contained his mirth until the office door closed behind the blustering Snape, then laughed himself into a coughing fit.

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"...and the lasting impact of the decision in the case of Simple-v-Riding is...Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione studied the roll of notes before her, checking the items off with her quill. "That Muggles, while not magical, are still entitled to habeas corpus protection under wizard law when they are in litigation with one from the Wizarding community. And that witches and wizards who knowingly engage in...let's see...Ah, here! Exchanges and barters with those in the Muggle community must accept the responsibility for disclosure."

"Excellent, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor." Olivia smiled hugely at the bushy-haired seventh year.

"I'd have shown them a habeas corpus," growled an insolent voice from the back of the room.

"Is that you again, Mr. Malfoy? Medications wearing off, are they?" Olivia refused to put up with this little toad. Not only was he annoying, he was stupid as well. Could Severus be correct when he hypothesized about the inbreeding of wealthy wizarding families? Olivia was willing to bet money on it.

"If you don't have anything productive to add to Simple-v-Riding, I suggest that you close your muzzle and leave the rest of us to our learning." She glared over her spectacles toward the rear of the tiered room. Green eyes sought and found the silver-haired wonder-git and his pet gargoyles, Thing 1 and Thing 2. She had tried nice during the first meeting. The second class gathering required her to be firm. After two weeks of knuckle-dragging idiocy from the back gallery of Slytherins, Olivia threw caution and civility to the winds. This was her court. In this room, she was judge, jury and in their case, executioner.

"Ten points from Slytherin for allowing Mr. Malfoy to run about without his nurse and for demonstrating once and for all that genetic isolation ain't all it's cracked up to be." The back of the room broke out in hisses and boos.

Without breaking stride, Olivia responded, "Twenty points each to Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for gamely carrying on despite the presence of mouth-breathers in the back row." The rest of the seventh years broke out in loud cheers and applause.

"Now!" Smiling, Olivia called over the hoots and cat-calls. "Can anyone explain to me how Simple-v-Riding has been used as precedent in lower court rulings?"

Half the back row raised eager hands.

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"Hello, Severus."

Oh, no. Please let her be dressed. Snape glanced over the top of the Daily Prophet.

Olivia pulled the band from her hair and allowed the damp mass to spill down her back. There was a dark V of sweat on the front of her thin T-shirt, drawing his eyes to the firmness of her small round breasts. Snape ducked back behind the paper only to see a group of witches in the photo of a recent charity gala clutching their bellies and laughing at him silently. With an irritated snap of the paper, he turned the page.

Olivia's fingers bent down the top of the paper. "I said hello, Severus." Her smile caused the pit of his stomach to draw up tightly.

"Miss McGonagall," he drawled, black eyes fixed on the print before him.

Olivia moved away to the storage cupboard along the back wall. "I had a wonderful run today. You really should give it a try. Get that tired blood of yours pumping." He could hear the cupboard door opening and peered over the page once more.

He surely didn't need to run to get his tired blood pumping.

Her back was turned to him and she was running a towel across her face and neck. Lifting her arms, Olivia wiped the sweat from under each. She missed the uncomfortable shifting of the man behind her as she bent at the waist, running the towel down the length of her firm, shapely legs.

She had her tail almost in his face! The curve of her buttocks was high and tight, the sides slightly indented. The material of her shorts clung like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination and Snape almost groaned aloud when she stood up and placed her hands on her lower back and stretched deeply. She tossed the towel into the cupboard and began to pick over the robes hanging there.

"I have been meaning to ask you," she said as she finally made her selection; "are you familiar with Draco Malfoy? What type of person is he?"

An alarm began to ring in Snape's brain. "Why do you ask?" he responded, trying to keep his voice calm.

"This may not sound very teacher-like to you, but I don't like him." Olivia shrugged into a robe of deep blue leaving the front undone. Taking a gold foil box from a shelf and closing the cupboard door, she turned to face Snape.

Join the club, Snape responded in the silence of his mind. The spawn of Lucius Malfoy was a walking testimony that it is never too late for an abortion. In his seventh year, the silver-hair darling of Slytherin House, while not very bright, engaged in every vice allowed, and many that could result in his expulsion if were he caught. Snape wanted nothing more than to rid Hogwarts of Draco's foul presence, but his father's influence was strong. Lucius Malfoy sat on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. He was also a staunch, if secret supporter, of Voldemort. It would not do for the Slytherin Head of House to expel the son of one of the Dark Lord's pet curs.

That Snape himself was still considered a pet of Voldemort was a fiction the Potions professor continued to foster in the wizarding world. And one that he hated.

Boredom oozing from his voice, Snape folded his paper and set it aside. "What has Mr. Malfoy done to earn your dislike?"

"He disrupts my class with his inane comments. He intimidates the weaker students with those ambulatory bookends that follow him around. He fails to turn in work on time, and when he does, it is inferior. He is sly, calculating, malicious..." Snape watched as Olivia ticked the infractions off on her fingers. She continued. "He is insubordinate and boorish, he made a pass at me, and when I told him I was going to shove his hand up his butt, he pulled his wand and threatened me."

"He what?" Snape hissed.

"He threatened me."

"No, you foolish woman! He made a pass at you?"

Olivia stood amazed at the man's priorities. " Oh, you just want to hear about the really important part. I see."

"Miss McGonagall, please, just humor me."

"Well, it was rather clumsy. Go figure. Grabbed my butt after class and told me in rather graphic terms what he would like to do to me. I then explained in rather graphic terms what I was going to do with his hand. He doesn't take rejection well. He should work on that. Anywho, after he pulled out his wand things started to get a bit nasty."

Snape was afraid to ask the next question, but he just had to know. "What did you do to him, Miss McGonagall?"

"I told him to hand over his wand," she answered simply.

"He, of course, refused." Snape made it a statement, rather than a question.

"Nope, handed it right over." She produced the wand and gave it to Snape who just looked at it and then at Olivia in amazement.

"He just gave it to you? Why?"

"Because I told him to. Anyway, when he left the room, he didn't have anywhere to stash it." Now she was laughing and placed a hand over her eyes in mock embarrassment.

"Why did he have no where to… stash it?" Snape was beginning to get a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, because he was sort of naked."

"Sort of what?" Snape yelled.

"Naked. It doesn't improve his appearance, let me tell you."

The Slytherin head of House groaned and closed his eyes, only to snap them open as an image of Malfoy's pale, naked body filled his mind. He shivered in disgust.

"And where is Mr. Malfoy now, may I ask?"

"I don't know, but my money is on him hiding in the dungeons somewhere. Got there pretty darned quick, I imagine. He's quite the little runner!" Olivia was laughing uproariously by now, tears running down her face. She noticed the man's failure to join in her mirth and wiping her face, grew quiet.

"Olivia, I want you to listen to me very carefully." Snape's voice dropped; it was low and threatening. Olivia's brow furrowed.

"You are in an extremely dangerous position." He leaned forward, placing elbows on his black clad knees, his head hanging. "You have attracted the notice of someone who could do you great harm. You have humiliated a member of a very powerful family." Looking up, he saw concern on the pale face. Good, she needs to be afraid.

"Promise me that you will do nothing, nothing to Malfoy without discussing it with me first. I would love to see you splatter the little git like a bug, but that is not to be. Promise me, Olivia. Promise me that you will steer clear of Draco Malfoy."

His words were so impassioned, his concern so evident, Olivia had no choice. "Sure," she whispered, uncertain. "Will you tell me…?"

"I can't tell you anything more now! I will have to think about this. This could prove to be very sticky. How you managed to muck up your first term… Damn it all woman, you should put on some clothes. What do you expect from your students when you parade yourself before them like this?" He flicked angrily at the open robe she wore.

Laughing, Olivia placed a hand to his shoulder and pushed him firmly back into the chair.

"So what you're saying is that I just got what I deserve? Let the little rodent have his way with me simply because I don't want to hack off his daddy?"

He had the grace to blush over that one.

"Get over it, Snape. I am what I am. You don't like what you see, then don't look." That she echoed the words of the headmaster did not escape Snape's notice. He wondered if Dumbledore had spoken to her after all. Then all thought of Dumbledore, Malfoy, and breathing left his brain because Olivia pushed aside her robes and sat facing him, straddling his lap, her firm thighs on either side of his own. She wiggled and snuggled her self more comfortably as he attempted to climb backwards over the chair.

"Oh sit still. I have something I want to show you." Olivia was opening the gold foil box and setting the lid aside.

"Miss McGonagall, I must ask you to get off my lap this instant!"

"No, you mustn't. Now look. Do you know what these are?" She held the box under his nose.

"They are chocolates! Now will you get up or must I deposit you on the floor?" His voice was cracked and strained. The heat from her lower body was scorching its way through the material of his trousers. His body had responded instantly and his crotch ached painfully, delightfully, with her nearness.

Olivia laughed, a little girl laugh, "They are not just chocolates!" she whispered conspiratorially. "They are Muggle chocolates! Do you know what that means?" Her green eyes danced and sparkled. Snape wished he could share in her delight, but at the moment, Muggles and their sweets were far down on his list of priorities.

"Miss McGonagall, someone could walk in at any moment. Please do not make me push you to the floor. Now, please get off my lap! " He was nearly screaming. Her nearness was wreaking havoc with his crotch and his mind. Already he could envision himself warding the door against intruders and taking her right there in the chair. She would probably not put up much of a fight. But, then again, maybe she would and then he could...

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!

She ignored him and continued to point to the contents of the box.

"It means," Olivia grinned. "That they don't do anything! They don't make you spit green fire, leak smoke from the ears, levitate, or fart God Save the Queen! They just lay there in their little brown, crinkle wrappers and politely wait for you to eat them. Just think Severus, a sweet you don't have to chase down and tackle! I ordered them from a catalogue. Here, try one."

She picked out a rectangle of dark chocolate and held it out for him.

Snape regarded the sweet with suspicion, then looked up to Olivia's laughing face.

"Are you afraid I am feeding you a potion?" She asked.

"No, it is just that I don't like chocolate," he lied.

"You liar! Mama told me she gives you a box every year for Christmas. Come on, open up."

His face grew harder, if that were possible. He tried to intimidate her with the stare that sent many a seventh year screaming from the room.

Failure.

"Come on, Severus. I know you want it," she coaxed.

You don't know the half of it, his mind groaned. He decided to relent. Better to give in and get her off him before he embarrassed them both. He reached for the chocolate--only to have her snatch it away!

"Nope! Changed my mind. You have to come get it… here." And the cunning little witch placed the dark rectangle between her sharp front teeth!

"Now, Miss McGonagall! This must cease."

"Aire oo."

"What did you say?"

"Aire oo," she repeated

"You dare me?"

"Uh huh. Uh-ul aire oo."

"Double dare me?" he snapped.

"Uh ul-og aire oo."

This was too much. Double-dog dare! How dare she?

He fastened his hands to either side of her face and pulled both sweets to his lips.

His teeth closed down on the bit of chocolate dangling temptingly from her lips. Slicing through the candy, he transferred it to the back of his mouth letting his tongue plunge forward, invading, exploring, claiming.

Olivia moaned softly as he finally moved to take her mouth. She had ached for his touch, feigning playfulness, all the while praying he would belly up to the bar and demand she fork over the goods. Gods, she was ready for him, wanting him, needing him. What was it about this sullen man that drove her to distraction? Her arms wound their way like vines about his head and neck. She slid her hips nearer to his belly and gasped into his mouth as she discovered the evidence of his arousal. His mouth tasted of sweet, thick chocolate and himself.

"Oh, my isn't this the cutest sight?" Maxwell Dillard whined from the doorway. "Aren't you supposed to be teaching constitutional law right about now, Olivia?" His words were calm but the tone gave evidence of his turmoil. His chest ached to see the lovely Potions Master giving his body to that trashy woman, that THING. She wasn't even human! Sidling into the room, purple robes whirling, Max longed to tell Severus the truth about the bitch. Pursing rouged lips, Max considered a course of action. Maybe he would tell Severus. Maybe he would.

Olivia looked deeply into the black coals before her, "I will see you later. Tell Cat that I am bringing him a snack." She placed a quick kiss on Snape's mouth and pushed away from him.

Gathering up her things Olivia moved to the door. "Max, that color really makes you look like a vampire, you know."

Dillard watched her leave and then turned to the man who remained. "Severus, I hate to be the one to tell you, but she is an animal." If Max was going for effect, he failed.

You're telling me, Snape groaned to himself, trying to shift his weight without giving a clue to the sultry Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"She is not a human, Severus. You don't believe me, just ask Minerva. Ask Dumbledore." Maxwell's pale face twisted into a sneer. "They probably won't tell you, though. Got to protect their tame monster."

He had the potion master's attention now. "What do you mean by 'monster'?" he inquired dangerously.

"Oh, Severus, I hate to be the bearer of ill tidings..."

Yeah, right, thought Snape.

"...but Olivia is a shapeshifter. Have you never wondered why her parents gave her away? They were afraid of her. Shapeshifting is one of the darkest Dark Arts. Only those truly imbued with the Dark can do what she is capable of." Dillard paused, checking for Snape's reaction to his words.

Snape kept his face neutral. Olivia, a shapeshifter? Was it possible? She seemed so...well normal. There was no evil in her that he could detect. He had seen evil at its worst.

"Be cautious around her, Severus," Maxwell whispered. "She is up to something. She could be very dangerous."

Snape rose from the chair. "I have classes to teach, Mr. Dillard. Excuse me."

He didn't appear in the dining hall that night, and when Olivia dropped by his chambers later, she found the door locked and warded. Sighing, she left Cat's snack on the floor, listening to his plaintive meowing through the door.

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"Severus, are you familiar with the Christian saint, Brigit?" Dumbledore inquired gently, handing the moody professor a cup of tea. He handed a similar cup to Professor McGonagall, who sat primly upright, her eyes filled with worry.

Snape sat quietly, thinking. He was not well versed in the lore of Christian Philosophy, though he knew many of the stories surrounding their "saints" came from the mists of ancient time. Brigit was the Celtic name for a goddess worshiped before the time of the Roman conquests. She was the goddess of the three waters, the bearer of Spring, the prize of the High Hunt at year's dying.

"I have some small knowledge of the legend, yes," Snape replied.

The conversation carried on into the small hours of the morning. When Professor Snape finally took his leave of Dumbledore's chambers, his face was ashen and his eyes were filled with tears.

*********************************************************************

"Damn it, woman!" Snape snarled as the last of the students silently filed from the Quidditch field. Draco Malfoy's lips were curled in a triumphant sneer.

"This is no game we are playing here."

Olivia had been ready to agree and apologize for her flippant behavior during the first hands-on meeting of the Dueling Club, but his tone and the way he abused her in front of the students stirred her anger until it nearly matched his own.

"Professor Snape, if you want to yell at me for my mistakes, please wait until we are alone. I will not tolerate being…"

"Shut up!" he snapped, black eyes boring into hers. He did, however, refrain from speaking to her again as the unusually quiet students climbed the hill back to the school.

Olivia had turned away and busied herself by packing up their supplies and shouldering the heavy canvas bag that held various objects they had brought along to use in the dueling. Tucking her wand into her robe pocket, Olivia moved past Snape, fully intending to follow the students, only to find her arm clamped in a hand of iron. Olivia attempted to pull her arm from his grip but he only increased the pressure, causing her to gasp from the pain.

Snape pulled her sharply to him, thrusting his face into hers. "This has been the most incredibly stupid parody of a dueling class I have ever had the misfortune to attend! What were you thinking of, if indeed you were thinking at all?" Narrowed black eyes burned so hotly Olivia could almost feel the heat, but she forced her voice to its lowest, most threatening level.

"You will take your hand off me, sir," she ground out. She did not attempt to pull from him. She would not give him the pleasure of seeing her struggle. Her own eyes had hardened to chips of green ice and Olivia kept them fixed with Snape's.

"Or you will do what?" he snarled. "Hit me with a Tickling Charm? Perhaps cause flowers to sprout from my ears? You seem to think that Dumbledore wants us to give the kiddies a few hours of fun each week instead of preparing them for war. What will they do if," he paused and pulled her even closer, increasing the pressure on her arm. "No, when they meet an agent of Voldemort's. Most assuredly, they will die if they attempt to emulate the foolish behavior of their fun-loving professor from Hogwarts."

"I told you, Snape, take your hand off me," Olivia growled. She could feel the desire to alter her form coming over her. The need to protect herself produced a feral glow in her eyes and she very nearly hissed in his face. Instead she shifted her weight slightly, stepping into his grip. All the anger boiling in her gut exploded upwards and drove her knee like a fired cannon into his groin.

Snape's face turned ashen as the air leaked from his mouth in a rush. His hand melted from her as he collapsed into a dark heap. Olivia turned and moved for the exit. The bag she carried irritated her and she flung it to the ground. To hell with it. Let him bring it back to the castle.

Behind her, she could hear his guttural moan. "Bitch! You bitch!"

Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, Olivia was alarmed to see the black robed man rise unsteadily to his feet and begin to stagger after her. He must have balls of solid bronze! Olivia began to feel the stirrings of fear and the desire to alter her form grew stronger. She couldn't let him see her change! She had to force the wild yearnings down. She was stronger than her non-human forms, no matter their primitive survival instincts. She could get back to the castle, hide. There was safety in numbers. Hiking up her robes, she moved faster.

She had almost reached the top of the hill when Snape was upon her.

His body slammed into her and brought them both crashing to the damp ground. Olivia twisted against him as he struggled to pin her beneath him. Scrambling desperately and kicking out with her feet, Olivia's hands fumbled in the confining robes for her wand. Pulling the wand free, she clawed her fingers into the turf, trying to find purchase but he had a firm grip on her clothing. Seeing no other escape, Olivia released the clasp holding the garment closed at the neck and squirmed out of it, leaving Snape with a handful of material.

Clad in only T-shirt and running pants, Olivia staggered on, her breath coming in short painful gasps. Her ribs ached sharply from the tackle. Had he broken a rib? Pressing a hand to her side she moved on.

Her head was pulled backward as he grabbed a handful of flying brown hair. As she fell, Olivia raised her wand to cast a spell. A blast like iron slammed into her wrist. He grabbed her wand hand and slammed it repeatedly against the ground. Her fingers grew numb. The wand fell away.

Snape collapsed on top of her, his breathing harsh and loud. Olivia gasped as his weight fell on her damaged ribs.

"Madam, when I have swallowed my testicles, I am going to teach you an extremely important lesson," his voice growled into her ear. His breathing was ragged and Olivia could feel the slamming of his heart against her chest.

"There is nothing I want to learn from you tonight, Severus. You will let me up and I will go back to the castle. When we are both calm, then we will discuss what happened here tonight."

"No! We will clear this up right now!" He kept a crushing grip on one wrist as he pushed himself up and away. Olivia was forced to stand or be dragged. To her amazement, he staggered towards the Forbidden Forest. Olivia planted her feet and grabbed at his fingers curled around her wrist. Snape continued on, even as Olivia staggered and fell. He took no notice and dragged her the remainder of the way.

Alarmed to the point of panic, Olivia tried yelling for help, but was silenced instantly when he slapped her hard with the back of his hand.

"Shut up, before you attract the notice of every horror residing in this wood."

He paused for a moment, to allow her to gain her footing, then set off again. They continued on deeper into the woods. In the moonless dark, the trees took on monstrous qualities. Finally, he stopped. Releasing her wrist, Snape reached into his robes and retrieved her wand, tossing it at her feet.

"Tonight, my dear you are the fox in a Revel Hunt. Surely you have heard of these even in the States." It was not a question.

Olivia's blood turned to ice. She had heard of the Hunts. A victim, sometimes a Muggle, sometimes a wizard that had earned the disdain of his fellow Revelers, would be loosed in an isolated spot. The goal of the "fox" was to make it back to a certain point before a set time passed. The "fox" was stalked all along the way. Olivia had never heard of a "fox" surviving a Revel Hunt. It had been a favorite sport of Voldemort.

Olivia pulled herself up as tall as she could and matched Snape glare for glare. "I am most assuredly not going to be a part of this sick game, Severus. I am going home."

She spun on her heel but then fell to her knees as the force of his spell hit her.

The pain was beyond description. It raced through her body and down her limbs like liquid fire. A scream ripped from her throat as she twisted and flailed under the spell's influence.

And then it was gone.

Olivia whimpered. Her body continued to twitch and spasm for sometime. Snape stood silently over her.

"Why are you doing this?" She could barely get the words past her lips. Her mouth tasted of blood. She must have bitten her tongue.

"To demonstrate to you just how abysmally unprepared you are for the tasks ahead of you. And before you credit me with this delightful interlude, it was Dumbledore's idea."

"You're lying!" Olivia croaked, pushing herself up.

"No, I am not. The Headmaster and I both agree that your education is sorely lacking in the more, how shall I put this, practical aspects of life with Voldemort on the loose."

Snape knelt down beside Olivia, his wand dangling from long supple fingers. "You need to know what you will be up against, Olivia. You have drawn the attention of someone who has the ear of the Dark Lord. Tonight you will find out just what you are up against. Think of it as a reality check."

She wanted to kill him, rip out his hard black eyes and shove them down his throat.

"Your task is to make it back to the castle before sunrise. You have your wand, your wits, nothing more. My task is to stop you. I will hold nothing back. I will hit you with everything I have at my disposal, as should you. This is not a game anymore, Olivia. You are playing for your life tonight." He paused, stepped closer to her and lifted her chin so that she could see the deadly intent on his face. "As much as it pains me...I will kill you if I have to." He could read the alarm and fear in her eyes, and then the emerald orbs went hard, flinty. Good girl, he thought releasing her. "Now, go!"

Olivia didn’t wait for a second command. Calling her wand into her fist, she whirled and vanished into the trees.

Snape watched her go.

Run, dearest.

************************************************************************

Olivia's first instinct had been to change into her owl form and fly home. Let him wander around the woods all night like some sadistic Boy Scout! The effects of his painful spell lingered and she could not make the change just yet. So she staggered on, trying to remember all she could from her time with Native American shamans.

Find your center.

Calm.

Calm.

Become the forest.

He is the intruder.

Become the hunter, rather than the hunted.

Her body dissolved and formed into the lithe, compact body of the lynx.

Now she was the hunter.

************************************************************************

The dark wizard stood amazed as Olivia's body flowed into the body of a graceful, cat-like animal. No wonder she gets on so well with Cat, he mused. So, Dillard had been telling the truth about the shapeshifting. He knew she was unregistered; he kept careful tabs on the list of Animagi maintained by the Ministry of Magic. He would alter his plans accordingly. He wondered what type of cat she had become. He had never seen its like before.

***********************************************************************

The night passed in a dream-like Hell for Olivia. Each time she felt she had succeeded in eluding her tormentor, he would blast her with his wand and then slither off into the dark. Her entire body ached. The wound on her leg throbbed unrelentingly. She could barely think of her next move through the pain and exhaustion.

Now, her final opportunity approached. Dawn was coming. She could see the eastern sky lightening. Morning must not catch her in the forest.

She balanced tensely on the pads of her paws. Each hair on her body was erect; she was very tense. Her tufted ears captured a noise.

He was coming. He would pass right under her perch. Nothing could be more perfect.

Crouching, she waited. With one leap, she would lock her fangs at the base of his skull. A grinding crunch, a twist and it would all be over. She would be safe.

And her heart would be broken for all eternity.

Snape moved on silent feet. His ears listened for any shifting in the movement of the wind, an alteration in the sway of the trees. She was near. He could feel it. Dawn was coming. This must end. He held his wand at the ready.

A crushing blow plowed his face into the wet humus of the forest floor. Claws raked his shoulders and back while a deafening scream filled his ears. Rolling instinctively, Snape attempted to throw off his attacker. Screaming a spell of deflection, he was relieved to feel the crushing weight and raking claws flung from him. The respite was short lived. He was slammed to the ground on his back, the wand flying from his hand, his throat captured in the vise of Olivia's jaws. He buried his hands desperately in the thick hair about the creature's neck but could gain no purchase. The jaws continued to squeeze. His vision grew spotted, tiny lights danced before his eyes.

He began to drift.

And then the pressure was gone.

The cat sat panting. Blood ran from a nasty burn on its foreleg. Snape gasped for air, watching the animal, wondering how much of Olivia's mind was controlling its actions.

Rolling over to his hands and knees, Snape pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly.

"Accio wand." The slender rod flashed into his hand.

Snape studied the animal before him. That it was damaged and in pain was evident. The cat's sides labored to bring air into its lungs. The eyes, still alert, were filled with pain. Staggering, the tawny cat lowered its body to the ground, flopped on its side and was still.

Keeping his wand at the ready, the wizard approached the downed cat. He could hear the labored breathing, see the blood-tinted saliva hanging from its open mouth. The green-gold eyes never left his as Snape moved closer.

Settling on his knees beside the damaged cat, Snape carefully showed his wand hand. Slowly he lowered the wand to the ground and lifting his hand, left it there. The cat continued to watch. Tenderly, the dark man laid his fingers on the blood-spattered fur.

"Olivia," he whispered.

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Author's note: Many, many thanks to Luvwillie for all her suggestions and help. I don't want any reviews that flame the story line using Saint Brigit. I am a Christian, but hey, the Good Lord gave me a brain to use and common sense to know fact from fiction. If my use of Brigit flies in your face, oops. You shouldn't be on this page in the first place. This is make-believe people, so flame away. I will just hit delete. If anyone wants to help me with Brigit-lore, feel free to send me what you know. I just love this story, and yes they will shag before Halloween, I promise.