Sweet Surrender; Angel and Spirits

If I Rage...

It was well after midnight when Danni Spellfire woke with start, her heart beating faster than she was thinking.

What she had been dreaming...

She inhaled heavily, feeling it was too late to wish Friday hadn't happened, yet grateful most of it was a blur. The most she could recall was leaving the classroom to go to dinner--but she could not remember how or when; Professor Flitwick saying hello in passing at one point--but she had unconsciously ignored him; sitting stonily through the meal, though not touching a bit of it, while the Old Man had drone on with his life stories in one ear and Professor Snape undermined the absent boy wizard in the other. Eventually, she had crawled into bed, having no idea how she had even gotten to her chamber.

Sitting upright, Danni looked around her room at her haphazard ways. Rolls of parchment lay on the floor next to her bed, as well as her robes, which she had discarded almost immediately after she had entered. Her shoes were spread from the carpet to the fireplace, and her clothes were in a heap on her squishy armchair. Closing her eyes, she massaged her temples, her brain feeling as if it would explode from all that it saw and knew. Just like her life, her room was such a mess.

She gazed down the wayside of her bed, instantly spotting Harry's parchment. The words he had written had rung hundreds of times in her mind since first reading it. She should have known that it was useless to avoid him, pointless to even think she could try to change their destiny. (But at least she could say she gave it a try, she supposed.) Ever since the Start of Term banquet, where she had first felt that burning stare, she should have known it'd be trouble...

Presently, taking a length of her hair, she twirled it around her finger and recalled what the Fates had told her that first night; The temptation for Harry Potter will be too great...he will start it...you will end it...

She sighed and shook her head, as she had then. They meant it just as they said it; Harry was going to do something-- she didn't want to know exactly what --and she, Professor Danni Spellfire would be the one to end it. Whatever 'it' was, had her beginning to fear it most... and she needed to do something about it. Quick. She recalled getting the idea that, given, he might not do anything, if there was no opportunity to start it. Yes, perhaps if she altered their actions in some way she could possibly change the prediction... then she wouldn't have to bitterly end it.

It took a lot to never call on him during class, rarely acknowledge him as he passed in the halls or during dinner. She only read his mind to know where he'd be ahead of time--and then made every attempt to not be there. (She succeeded every time.) She had even considered getting involved with Severus once more. (But she just couldn't! Not after what he'd done to her...) the holidays looming closer and almost Potter free...

But in these last few weeks, things were catching up. Harry's schoolwork had begun suffering. He started missing assignments, was constantly late, and lacked the attention she had become used to. Naturally she had become concerned, being a teacher--his teacher. She had to do something. It had been her doing after all. She couldn't go to another professor and ask for help, much less go to the Old Man, though he had noticed the concern on her face. She needed to face him, hoping beyond hope that nothing would happen between them, that Harry wouldn't think to start anything right then...

That was why she had asked Harry to stay after, to set him straight...

But she hadn't got very far before she was tempted to touch him...

And in turn, the boy was unable to restrain himself from the same temptation; he kissed her.

Danni sighed heavily again and covered her eyes with her hands.

That part she had changed; he hadn't started it, she had.

Unveiling her eyes again, she looked up to her hangings...then dared to reach out to Harry, seeking his whereabouts. He was sound asleep in his bed. He too had been in turmoil, but unlike her, had discovered sleep. She shook her head. Then stretching out an arm, she snapped her fingers at the candle on the bedside table. It lit at once. In the pale luminance, she put her hand over Harry's parchment and thought, "Up," and instantly, it flew to her hand. She laid it on her lap, and opened it gently.

The words she read burned her yet again--and try as she might to regret her mistake... she couldn't.

What was she going to do now?

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

The next morning, Miss Spellfire could see Harry was avoiding his breakfast.

Beside him were his friends who were encouraging him to eat, though he wouldn't touch any of the boiled eggs, fried ham slices, hot sausages or the mounds of toast that were in front of him. All he consumed was pumpkin juice, and that Danni knew wouldn't be enough to sustain him: the Quidditch match against Slytherin was an hour and a half away and he needed all the energy he could get.

Seeking deeper into his mind, she felt his anxiety for the game wasn't the only thing bothering him: his greatest fear was being in the same room as she.

She lifted her goblet to drink as she listened to the morning excitement of the students chattering on about the match and who was going up against whom. She had just finished her third swallow when familiar feet tramped towards her, the scent of rotting mushrooms and old cologne riding on the air like a skunk.

Heavy breath and a gravel voice spoke into her ear. "Danielle."

There was only one person who called her by that, aside from the Old Man, only one person who could say it--and make her shiver. Turning, she placed her goblet down and watched as a dark figure gawked at her with a thin grin. "Severus," she said. She wondered for the hundredth time why he kept his greasy hair in his face; it was better when it was pulled back.

He appeared more pallid than usual this morning, his crooked nose hovering besides her. And when he sat rather ceremoniously, his robed body twisted towards her, fully opening so she could see his dark wardrobe underneath: bulging tight pants and high-buttoned vest. One bony hand he placed on her chair, and laid the other on the High Table, alternating it between a fist and a flat palm, fist and flat palm. He was tempted to touch her but because of the breakfast crowd, he was restraining himself. His black eyes burned for her, the thoughts he had so early in the morning...

She asked charmingly, "Rough night?"

The dull shine glimmered in his eyes for half a second. "Yes... rather busy."

I'm sure, she said to herself, nodding, fully aware of why. She glanced at Harry, who was now glaring at the way Snape leaned himself towards her. When he saw Danni gazing at him, he quickly bowed his head, red faced.

Again Miss Spellfire drank from her goblet. Snape asked, "Have you considered my... proposal?"

Placing her cup down again, she turned to him. "Yes, thoroughly," she said charmingly. "But I'm afraid, I must refuse."

Snape's eyes almost crossed. "Refuse? Why?"

She liked the confusion on his face and smiled. "'There are secrets... and then there are secrets,'" she said.

His eyes narrowed. "What?" He leaned further into her. "What are you talking about?"

"You know very well what I mean," she said sweetly. "'Its our little secret,' remember?" Then her face fell as she fought it, the rage slowly building within. He had told her those words to make her remember to keep the 'secret' of their illegal affair. And with those same words, she was unable to forget his cold clammy fingers contacting her virgin skin and the fact she was only 17... She had to abandon all that she knew just to escape him and those pitch black eyes that to this day, never completely left her mind. (It was only when Dumbledore called, that she had to return, all in an effort to save the nit.) She was forever altered because of him, and now ten years later, he wanted more?

She felt Snape's glare and tried to smile again. How Danni wished she had the courage to rip his eyes out in public.

"You wanted it as much as I!" he harshly whispered to her.

She wasn't sure if he meant the present or the past. "Yes," she hissed, unable to hold back. "But not anymore! There's some thing else--some one else--that I want more than you." She bravely gazed out at Harry and leaned back in her chair.

Through the corners of her eyes, she could see Snape immediately follow her stare, both watching as Harry downed his eighth glass of pumpkin juice. He looked up at his teachers, and then away in disgust, his lips curling.

Snape spit. "What? Are you mad?"

"No more than you were ten years ago," she said coolly.

He began breathing through his thin nose, and she swore there was smoke coming from his nostrils. Instantly he stood up. "Wait until Dumbledore--"

Danni immediately reached up and pulled him back down, making him land hard on his chair. "I wouldn't worry my greasy little head, if I were you, Severus. Nothing has happened between us. At least, not yet." They glared at each other for what seemed like hours. Then she smiled amiably again. "You know you can't tell Dumbledore a thing," she said, her dark eyes glinting. "You can't afford him knowing."

Snape stared angrily with unblinking black eyes.

She continued, explaining softly, a finger of hers, running up and down his sullen cheek, "Because you see, if he were to approach me about such nonsense, aside from my future sins--I would feel the need to confess my past transgressions as well." She waited for his reaction, but he gave none. She picked the lint from his robe. "And I suppose, somehow, someway, while I'm confessing, I might let it slip how I know about the affair you're currently having. How do you think he'd react to that?" Snape stopped breathing all together. He knew very well how she knew this--and with whom.

"That, I believe, is far more scandalous than any affair I might have."

She sat back and watched as Snape took it all in. For a sturdy man to suddenly look so small and meek... Looking to Harry once again, she saw his eyes glower at her with beginning hatred.

Don't worry, Harry she wanted to call across the room. I've taken care of everything...

"But I suppose, you must seem him to discuss other things at some point, which is fine," she said. "While you're there, can you relay a message for me."

Snape turned on her, spitting like a child caught in a dragon's lair. "I will not!"

"Oh, but I insist," she told him ruthlessly, grabbing him by the shoulder and gripping tightly, her nails sinking right to his flesh. Pulling herself close, she whispered into his ear, holding back no more. "Don't think you can play a better Beater than me, Severus. I warn you." Danni smiled with diamonds in her eyes, not easing her grip in the least. "You know if you're not careful, I can knock you off your broom!"

Snape pulled away from the mad woman, and faced forward rigidly, his mouth hissing at the corners. He threw his head back to move his greasy mane from his sweaty brow, his dark eyes--with daggers in them--silently watching Harry Potter bound out through the Great Hall doors fast as lightening.