Darkly Bound

Darkly Bound

9.

It was a cold rainy Saturday and I was sat in the Great Hall with a group of Ravenclaw 3rd years who had recently become somewhat attached to me. They were constantly asking me to read their palms or tell them who was going to ask them to the Yule Ball and other girlish questions. One of them seemed particularly interested in a certain boy and was trying to get information on love charms.

"Oh come on, Miss, we know you're good at them!" she pleaded.

"Melissa, you are far too young to be thinking about things like this. If you really want him to notice you just go ask him if you can read his Transfiguration notes."

A little blonde piped up, "Oh that's no good, Miss. It's no good at all. Why can't you just give her a spell?"

"There's no spell for that. You can't ever make anyone do something they don't want to do. You all know that," I answered. Their faces crumpled.

"What about a potion?" Melissa asked, attacking anew.

"A love potion? I think not. Besides, I've always been hopeless at potions, so you'd have to ask your Potions Master. No, girls, I'm afraid with it comes to matters of love you will have to rely on your own beauty and smarts. And trust me, you all have plenty. No potions. No charms. No spells."

"That's not what Jamaica says, Miss," This little one was persistent.

"And who is this Jamaica?"

"Jamaica Kinkaid."

"She's a Slytherin, second year," added one of the others.

"And just what does Jamaica Kinkaid of Slytherin have to say about love charms?" I felt it would be best to indulge them.

"She says you've put one on Professor Snape."

I burst out laughing. "Professor Snape! A love charm? Oh my dears. Please tell me a bunch of clever Ravenclaws like yourselves are far to smart to believe the gossip of a 2nd year Slytherin girl!"

"No, Miss," they mumbled. But the glances they exchanged made it clear they were still unsure.

It was just about then I sensed Snape's approach. He was still far enough away that I could warn him off.

No, not now. Please! Just give me five minutes to get rid of them!

"But Miss," it was Janelle again, "Jamaica says that--"

"Janelle, let me tell you something," I leaned in close to the group and they gathered in. "If I had put a love charm on your Potions Master I can assure you that right this minute he'd be prostrate at my feet, peeling me grapes and reading the sonnets of Shakespeare. He would not be creeping up behind me with that sour look on his face!"

Their eyes widened with horror as the silky voice came from behind us, "For God's sake, hold your tongue and let me love..."

Snape!

The girls' high pitched screams filled the hall.

"There, you see? That proves it. That wasn't Shakespeare at all. It was John Donne and there isn't a grape to be found." I turned to Snape and glared at him. Do you have any idea what you've just done? "Good afternoon, Professor, your timing couldn't be better." I said through gritted teeth, "These young ladies were just asking my advice on love charms and potions."

He looked at the girls who were staring at him wide-eyed. "Interesting. Charms, the problem there is there is no antidote. When you get sick of the fellow there's not much you can do but kill him." The girls gasped. "As for potions; tricky things, love potions. Especially," and he turned his black eyes on Janelle and Melissa, "for students who have trouble differentiating between a cauldron and a teakettle. One wrong ingredient and your intended may end up falling helplessly in love with a doorknob. Or a bit of burnt toast." The girls were awestruck.

Stop upsetting these children!

He continued, "Oh yes, very nasty. I've seen it happen."

"Professor," I broke in before any more harm was done, "Is there something I can help you with this afternoon?"

"Yes, Doctor, I must beg some of your time, if it's not too inconvenient."

"Alright, we were just about finished here anyway." I turned to the girls, "Now off with you. And I don't want to hear any more about that ridiculous charm again. You see? I'd rather have put a love spell on a doorknob!"

They all broke into hysterical giggles and left the room, each of them glancing back several times before reaching the doors.

"I hope you're happy!" I snapped at him once the doors closed behind us. He didn't answer but wore his usual smirk. "We'll both pay for that for long time."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," he said distractedly. "They all have minds like sieves, they'll have forgotten the entire event by teatime."

"You're wrong," I told him. "Who's the seer here?"

He stopped and turned towards me. "You are, of course and that's just what I needed to speak to you about. The Ministry--"

"Has a plan," I finished for him. "They want to try to take back Azkaban themselves."

He paused, then said, "So it would seem." He started walking again. "It is an ill conceived and dangerous plan in my opinion and one that will put lives in danger for no reason."

I stayed where I was. "Are you going to ask me to undermine the Ministry? To make up some dire prediction about the failure of this plan?"

He turned back but didn't come closer, "No, of course not. But divination is an inexact science--more an art, wouldn't you say? Any prediction of the future is open to interpretation."

"You think I'll play the Sphinx for you? Why? Is it glory you want or do you just want to commit state-sanctioned suicide?"

He looked at me questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sure you're familiar with the histories of the ancient oracles."

"Is this a test?" he looked affronted.

"Tell me about them. Tell me what you know about the Sybil, The Oracle at Delphi, or the Sphinx."

"According to legend they were women favored by the gods, Apollo I believe, who were given the power to see the future, but when consulted they spoke in riddles."

"They did not speak in riddles. They spoke clearly and plainly and told painful truths. What really happened is that the men who were seeking their advice didn't like what they heard. Why should they? What if the Sibyl told the King not to wage war because his entire army would be mowed down and his country overrun? That would be bad for morale. So, men twisted the words of the oracles, turned them into riddles that could mean anything. Tell a warrior he'll return home glorious and he'll fight. Does it really matter if that glorious return is on foot or in a box? I have combed through the ancient texts. I have seen the ancient texts and I can assure you that there were no riddles. I can also assure you, Severus, that I do not deal in riddles or half-truths either."

"I'm sorry. I don t follow."

"You do. You choose not to. If I decide to skry for you, or for the Ministry, I will tell you exactly what I see. You want to pick and choose what you hear. I've already told you what I think of your going to Azkaban. Think about it. Read my thoughts. You'll understand. And if you still don t get it, ask a beginning Divination student to lend you a textbook and read up on Cassandra. No one listened to her, either. Good afternoon, Professor."

10.

I knew he was still watching me as I walked quickly down the corridor. The storm outside had been worsening all day, but suddenly it seemed to be raging inside the walls of the castle. The corridor became as dark as night. I kept up my pace and still he stood, motionless, watching me leave. A sudden crash of thunder, accompanied by a blinding flash of light stopped me in my tracks. It only took a second until I could see again, but when I looked at the hallway in front of me I gasped. The floor in front of me had opened up and a deep chasm had materialized at my feet. A furious sound like the inside of a hurricane came from it's depths. I collected myself and turned around to face Snape.

He had not moved. He stared at me, his expression unfathomable. I knew this was his doing, but he had uttered no incantation. This was a Mindstorm, and a damned strong one. Although technically an illusion, a good Mindstorm is as real as its creator willed it to be for as long as its intended mark allows it to be so. I turned back to the chasm and kicked a loose piece of floor stone. The stone disappeared over the edge.

"Go ahead, Doctor. Cross it." His tone was low and mocking. "You think you can do this alone. I won't stand in your way."

I considered the scene before me. Snape was projecting this image into my mind. Normally it would be no trouble to cast off such an image and walk across it unharmed, but because he was currently drawing on my own power to create and strengthen this illusion against me, it was entirely possible that my own consciousness would be tricked into falling.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Look across the divide. What do you see?"

As I looked across where the Hogwarts corridor used to be, a landscape began to form. Flat land and twisted tress took shape. As the vision took shape it became clear that what I was looking at was a graveyard. An enormous graveyard. Tombstones seemed to stretch for miles.

"What is this place?"

"Read my thoughts. You'll understand."

"You know these people? Knew them?"

"Many of them, yes."

"These people were all killed by Voldemort."

"They were. They were either in his way, or set against him. Some were even in his service."

"How many did you...?" the question trailed off, smothered by a feeling of inexpressible remorse. I could not take my eyes of the horrific scene. So many lives lost. It had become so easy to talk about, this story here, that story there. But to see all this at once. It was overwhelming.

"Yes, overwhelming. And you say you want to fight all this alone."

"No, I don't want to!"

My eyes were burning with trying to hold back tears. It was stupid, I know. There was no way to hide my feelings, even with Snape fifty feet away, but I needed to hang on to this little bit of pride. I would not let him see tears.

"Well then, cross it. It's all in your head after all."

I turned back and looked at him again. He still hadn't moved. I doubt he'd even blinked. I closed my eyes and tried to envision the corridor the way it had been before. I turned back in the direction of the crevasse, with my eyes still closed, holding tightly to the image of the safe, brightly lit school hallway. I took one step forward, slowly and my foot landed safely on solid ground. Relieved, I allowed myself to breathe for a moment before taking another step. Again the tip of my shoe touched solid floor. But just as I was placing my weight on that foot another deafening crash of thunder rocked the corridor and broke my concentration. I felt the floor wobble and begin to fail. I pitched forward, reaching out while trying to picture solid stone beneath my hands to catch my fall. Suddenly I felt a powerful blow to my solar plexus and was thrown up and backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs and it took several moments for me to recover and find myself on my hands and knees gasping for air again at the edge of the crevice. Snape was no longer fifty feet away, but standing directly over me and looking over towards the graveyard with a shocked expression on his face. I got to my knees, grabbed his arm and began to pull myself up. He absently hoisted me up.

Dumbledore!

Still winded I looked into the Mindstorm. Albus Dumbledore was striding though it, admiring the view.

How can he be seeing this? Why is it still here?

Dumbledore stepped across the crevice in the floor and looked at us. "Honestly, young people today. In my day, Severus, you took a lady out for a stroll in a garden, not across a hell-mouth into a cemetery!" He looked at me and winked. The apparition vanished. "Much better. Didn't want Filch to see that mess, now did we? Now, I have something I need to discuss with you two. You must leave at once, the details are in these letters from the Ministry," He produced two letters wrapped in twine and sealed with multiple wax imprints and handed one to each of us. "Do not open them until you are away from Hogwarts. You will be away indefinitely. Your class schedules have been covered. Severus, are you prepared?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then I'll leave you to it then." He turned to leave and took a few steps before turning back to us his eyes suddenly full of concern, "Be careful, both of you. Don't be afraid to depend on each other, there's a reason why you've been chosen for this."

I looked at the letter in my hand. I tried to divine the contents without opening it, but it was protected by a charm. I looked at Snape. "Now what?"

"Now we leave. Are you ready?"

"I....um...where are we going? If we can't open the letters...?"

"I'll handle that."

*

The next thing I knew we were in a huge, quite comfortable room. It was quite dark, it didn't appear that anyone had been in it recently. Snape walked over to the immense fireplace and started a fire. All the lamps flickered with light. As the room began to brighten details became more noticeable. It appeared to be a large sitting room in a manor house. A soft, worn oriental rug covered the floor. Exquisite antique furniture filled the room. The room looked like a museum, but had a well worn, relaxed feeling of a comfortable home.

"Well this makes a change! I expected to end up in the middle of a battle field or on the deck of a sinking ship."

"This is my home."

"Your home?"

"Yes, I do have a home, you didn't think I lived in a few cramped rooms at Hogwarts all year, did you?

"I never thought about it at all, actually." I walked around the room admiringly. I noticed several portraits hanging on the walls that did, indeed resemble the Potions Master.

"Yes, and I have a family as well, I didn't hatch out of an egg."

I laughed at that. "I promise I won't tell the students. It would disappoint them so."

He had gone to a far wall and begun to draw back heavy curtains. I walked over to watch. I was not prepared for the shock of what I saw. The drapes pulled aside revealed that nearly the entire wall was constructed of arched and mullioned windows which looked out over a staggeringly beautiful view of rolling lawns which ended at the shore of a fair sized lake. Beyond the lake was more land, and even though the visibility was not good because of the rain and wind, I could see that extensive well-groomed gardens extended well beyond what I could see from where I stood.

"Oh my! This is--"

"No, it's not. And I'd appreciate it greatly if you can restrain yourself from saying that--"

"It is! It's Pemberly!"

"--aloud." He sat heavily in an overstuffed chair.

"Miss Bennett, may we get down to business?"

I could hardly bear to pull myself away from the view at the window. Damn the storm! I wanted nothing more than to get out and walk around the grounds of this house.

"Only if you promise me the Stately Home tour."

"I'll do no such thing. It's hardly necessary, is it?"

He was right. I could see the entire house in my mind through his memories, rooms and galleries, attics and basements. I saw it dark and empty like it was today and I saw it filled with summer light and people, groups of dark-eyed children spilling down the twisting staircases.

I sat opposite him and reached for the cup of coffee that had appeared on the side table. Pulling the ministry letter from my pocket I examined the seals.

"I've never even heard of some of these departments. Have you?"

He was looking at one seal on his with particular interest. Without answering he produced a small golden knife, cut the twine that bound his letter then held the blade out to me without lifting his eyes from the papers in his hands.

I knew I wasn't to expect any answers so I opened my own.

The compactness of the packages had been deceiving. What had appeared to be single sheets of parchment, when opened contained pages and pages of maps, instructions and legal disclaimers.

"Bloody ministry lawyers! Worse than Muggles!" Snape snorted as he flipped through page after page of documents stating that no matter what happened the ministry was not to blame. "Unless we came back with Voldemort's head on a platter, then see how fast they'd show up on the front page of the Daily Prophet."

"I need to go to your library."

He finally looked up, "Library?"

"Yes, you do have one, I've seen it."

"Of course, but..."

"Look, It says here I've got twelve hours to figure this out. I don't know where these places are or what half of this means. I'm just hoping I can find some cross references somewhere."

"Alright, I have some preparations to make as well." We stood up and walked out of the sitting room towards the main staircase. He pointed up, " Second landing, to your left."

I wasn't listening. I was staring in utter disbelief at a portrait that hung on the first landing facing the front door of the house. It was of a stunningly beautiful woman, with long black hair and vivid blue eyes. She was holding a crystal gazing ball in her left hand and smiling at me with a look of clear recognition.

"That portrait--"

"Yes?"

"I know her."

You can't possibly know her." He looked at me suspiciously and eyed the portrait. "That is, well was, my mother. She died when I was fifteen"

I couldn't take my eyes off the portrait. I was sure it was her, but perhaps I was just misreading the sense of familiarity from Snape himself. "She was a diviner."

"You can find your way to the library? Or should I escort you?"

"No, you go on. I'll manage."

He gave me another suspicious glance and turned to leave.

I walked up the stairs to the first landing and approached to painting. There was a small plaque at the bottom of the ornate frame that held a simple monogram 'RS'. I looked again into the eyes of the beautiful woman. She lifted one finger to her lips, and slowly

I tried to ignore the tickling sense of familiarity with the enigmatic "RS" and attempted to pass it off as a side effect of reading Snape's closeness with her. So I found my way to the library as if I'd been there a hundred times already. I noticed as I entered the room, lanterns flickered with light and candles lit themselves on the writing tables. It was a large room, furnished with floor to ceiling bookshelves crammed full of books, papers and scrolls of every age and description. I dropped the ministry papers on the nearest table and began to sort though them. There were a few maps and a sky chart, those I laid to one side. A thick bundle of instructions and explanations of the ministry plan came next. The last pile I dropped on the floor out of the way. Legal disclaimers from both British and American authorities declaring their non-responsibility in the event of mishap.

I sat on the soft leather sofa near the table, pulled a candle closer and began to read the details. The ministry meant to reclaim Azkaban. An involuntary shudder passed through me and the scene I'd seen in the obsidian mirror came back in blood-red. The details were stunningly, but deceivingly simple. There were twelve of us altogether. Six telepaths and six agents. The telepaths, myself among them were to be stationed at points around the prison to act as sentries for the agents inside and at the same time to throw up a psychic net around the perimeter to keep any escapees or deserters in and any Death Eater reinforcements out while the action was taking place. Great care had been taken in choosing the participants in this raid as it seemed important to the ministry that the majority of the agents remain unknown to each other to avoid collusion and sabotage. I had to admit, for a bunch of bureaucrats, they'd come up with a rather ingenious plan. Now, to get it to work.

The map was rather self explanatory even if I was unfamiliar with our exact location. The sky chart corresponded to my assigned position. When the evening star reached the specified degree in the sky, the assignment would begin. The agents inside would have taken up their positions and the telepaths were to close the net until the star reached the second position. It seemed to me that there wasn't much time allotted, but the agents were all said to have extensive knowledge of Azkaban and it's surroundings they concluded that once access was gained and the new administrator placed in control there would be little reason for the agents to stay inside and expose themselves to further danger.

There were no instructions on how this psychic connection was supposed to be maintained. Making the contact would pose no problem, but forming a physical barrier required cooperation and constant fine-tuning. I had to find a precedent for this action and find it fast. I stood and walked over to the shelves. There didn't seem to be any order at all to the way the books and papers were placed. Scanning the books a thought occurred to me. 'Mummy was a diviner, was she? What would we have done with her books? Left them untouched, I'm sure'. I scanned the room again. 'There!' In one corner there was a small writing desk and chair that looked out a tall window over a formal garden. 'That's hers for sure.' I moved around the desk and examined the dusty books on the lower shelves behind it. I pulled out three promising titles and began to flip though them looking for any information that might be of help. One volume in particular seemed promising so I lifted it onto the writing desk and sat down there to read.

A soft sound, like music in the distance caught my attention and I looked up to see where it might be coming from. The light in the room had changed and a sweet, cloying scent began to drift through the still air. My eyes felt heavy and I had to fight the drifting feeling that was fast overcoming my senses. She was coming, my spirit guide. I heard her voice before I saw her and I clamped my eyes shut tight.

"Melpomene, you know that won't work, look at me."

"I can't Renata. I can't, this is too much, even for me."

"Nothing is too much unless you make it so."

I opened my eyes even though I could clearly see her standing before me with them shut. The beautiful lady with the black hair and blue eyes in the portrait on the stairs. They beautiful lady who had lead me through my training. The grey-gowned angel who had sat with me, singing sweetly when I lay near death after being bled near dry in the rainforest by the demon that had claimed my husband.

"Why you? Why here? Why him?"

She laughed. "Oh my dear, do you think this is all coincidence? Do you really? Search your heart."

"I'd rather not."

"Suit yourself, you can't hide forever. Now, to answer your questions. 'Why me?' I chose you. 'Why here?' You need my help. Both of you. And 'why him?' He's my son. That, at least you can understand."

I turned away from her. "He is in great danger. He shouldn't be doing this. I see it around him every day."

"Yes, but he's chosen his path, as have you," she said sadly.

"He could have been a great diviner, I saw that at once, now I know where he gets it."

She laughed. "I thought so too, when he was a boy. But it frightened him. My son is a scientist. If he can't hold it in his hands or pickle it in a jar he doesn't trust it. That's why it was so vitally important that he be bound to someone who does trust in the mantic arts."

"What? You foresaw this?"

"Melpomene, what a question. It will save his life. If he sees a vision, or a shadow and believes it is of his own mind, he'll dismiss it as an idle fear or fantasy. If he receives that same vision from you he'll trust it. You see? It's simple scientific theory. Cause and effect. He is bound to an auger and thus sees these prophecies as the direct effect of that."

I was struck by a sudden horrific thought. "He'll know about your coming. How could he not?"

"He'll know nothing of our contact. It's nearly time. He'll be coming for you soon. Listen," She placed her cool hand on the top of my head and I felt calming light flowing through my whole body. I had all the information I needed to make the connection to the psychic net. I would be so easy. So very easy....

"Get up! We need to leave now."I was startled by a hand shaking my shoulder roughly, "I hope you found what you needed before you nodded off!"

I groggily raised my head off the writing desk. How long had I been asleep? Snape was standing over me looking angry, as usual.

"What time--?"

"Time to go. Here, you'll need this if you're to be standing outside all night."

He thrust a bundle of wool at me. I shook it out and found it to be a cloak, quite heavy and of fine manufacture. "Thanks" I said weakly.

"You're ready then?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Good. Let's get out of here."