The Only Protectus

Punishment Enough

'Miss Basilica?'

'Who are you? What are you doing here?'

'My name is Hermione Granger, I'm a friend of Harry Potter's,' she paused, 'and Remus Lupin's. What are you doing down there?'

'I'm not feeling very well.'

'Do you want me to go and get Madam Pomfrey?'

'No. No there's nothing she can do.'

'I know they all trust you Miss Basilica, but there's a lot of heritage in your last name which people don't understand, or even know about. One thing I've discovered is Death Magic?'

'What?' Siana stirred, faced her. Hermione nodded.

'I knew it would be familiar. It was hard to find out that it even existed, though if you just looked in a simple account of types of magic in the encyclopedia section, it's there for everyone to read. Well, not an actual description, but acknowledgement of what it is.'

'You know...you know what it is?'

'Don't you?'

'Tell me! Tell me!!!'

'Miss Basilica you really should get to Madam Pomfrey, it looks like you're bleeding.'

'Please tell me. Tell me what you know Hermione. It's urgent.'

'Alright. Do you have uncontrollable reactions to your spells? Do they never turn out right?'

'Nearly never.'

'Ever harmed someone without meaning to? Thinking you were going to heal them?'

Siana thought back to Sibilant Stow.

'Yes.'

'Miss Basilica, pardon me for saying so, you're not a witch, you're a weapon.'

'What? What are you talking about?'

'An innate form of magic, uncontrollable, often fatal to both the bearer and the recipient. It was supposed to have been bred out of the wizarding lines centuries ago after-'

'After what?!'

'Miss Basilica, your, your eyes.'

'What about them?'

'Miss Basilica. Your eyes are bleeding. I'm going to get someone to help you.'

'No, Hermione, please don't tell anyone.'

'I'm sorry Miss Basilica, you really don't look very good at all. I'll be back, stay here. Please.'

Hermione bolted away.

Like hell I'll stay here. Siana lifted herself up awkwardly and cracked her head on the rim of the fireplace she was hiding in. Blackness swam. And she collapsed.

*

In her dreams she saw hundreds of muggles dressed in the type of clothing she had seen in books, constricting, many pieces, no flow. Beyond the muggles mist lay like blindness, and lightning was its cane. The people before her were blank faced and cried tears of blood, violet light glowed deep inside them, and spilled out of eyes that when shadowed, turned pale like goose down. They all held wands in their hands, they all stared at her, accusing.

From their wands flickered many tongues, long and thin and forked.

She walked amongst them slowly, passing them, and their eyes followed her. The light as she passed through it was familiar, but their attire was not. It occurred to her that they might not be muggles at all, but witches and wizards in clothing that hid their true nature. Perhaps they were all pure bloods, if such a thing still existed.

For in her dream it seemed that she could have been the muggle, she; wandless, robeless, a breeze caressing her nakedness and mist hiding the truth. All alone she passed through their thickness and silence until her footsteps echoed louder and she reached the mist. And then it was only mist, and she turned to see the people watching her still, stationary, and then she turned and looked into the mist. There was nothing there.

So she followed the mist deeper, it smelt of fragrant damp, and was older than she could have even hoped. Every now and then silent strikes of lightning blew flashes of light across her eyes. The smell of sharp, acrid burning filled her nostrils.

'Things hurt you more now, because you are more aware of them. Which is funny.' Frederick came out of the shadows, dressed in black robes, he wore a silver cowboy hat, and his wand was tipped in gold.

'You're not him.' Her voice tinny.

'No. Not really. I'm not a muggle, I'm not a wizard. I'm just a mist-wraith. We're nothing. I can still laugh like him though. Want to hear?' A grin crawled across his face, his teeth like shiny signposts. She shook her head.

'No thank you.'

'You'll hear him enough anyway soon enough. You'll wake up to it, you'll fall asleep to it. He'll be your every waking moment. Could have mistaken you for lovers.' The mist-wraith twirled his wand and it sparked. Nearby lightning forked, reached out. Siana backed away a little and the man that looked like Frederick merely shrugged and extended his crooked arm.

Siana took it at the second elbow.

'Come walk with me. We'll have a chat. You don't mind if I slip into my normal form do you?'

'No.' Her voice not even hesitant.

'Just don't look at my face, or you'll wake up, and I have some important things to tell you. Not so much because you're important, because you as a person, and your personality are hardly a grain of sand. Don't look at my face now, do you hear?' The sound of bones crunching, a transfiguration taking place. The arm stayed the same, but she could sense it was taller now, thinner. Her arm felt bulky alongside its second elbow, its first elbow bumped against her shoulder.

'I won't.'

'You're not doing so well. It can't be helped. No one is doing very well. Now that the Pale One is back not many will be doing so well. We on the other hand, we love the Pale One. We love him. Oh you want to ask a question do you?'

The mist swirled around them, it was getting thicker, the silence stronger. The echoes were like thunder, and the lightning did not wait as it raced across the sky. Two streaks chased each other, caught up, tangled and disappeared.

'Is this a real storm?'

'Oh come now.' Amusement. 'Ask me the question you've been simply dying to ask. Ask me.'

'What is death magic?'

Laughter. Dry laughter. And the second elbow tightened around her. The laughter faded off like a creaking door and instead they continued to walk, their steps matching. Siana wondered where everything else was, what would happen to the hundreds of muggle dressed witch and wizards. She wondered when she was going to wake up, or if the wraith was going to answer her.

Eventually, it did.

'Death magic, is not really magic at all. Well. When you get down to it, it's a very fundamental sort of change. You understand change don't you?'

'My family dying. That's change.'

'Yes. That is change. What a lovely example. I could weave you a tale here about basilisks, and what they used to be, before they were basilisks, and what you used to be, before you were Siana. I could even tell you how you were born...and what happened to Frederick on that night. And what happened to you. I could tell you about the Pale One, and what he sees, and how your darling Uncle knows what to do with you. Oh yes. He knows what to do with you.'

'All this could. You're not going to tell me anything.'

'I've told you a lot. You've just never listened to me before. Do you know what a mist-wraith is?'

'No.'

'We are the connection. Between one state and another, there is that moment where the change takes place. It is instantaneous. It happens with a flash!'

Lightning, forty strokes or more, all around them, a large circle. She saw stars when it cleared, the wraith guided her with a purpose that Siana couldn't fathom. It chuckled, the bounce in its step was cheerful.

'I am one of many, one of thousands. Everyone has their own. Really. But I am more too. I am that moment between life and death, where I take command of the flow and I change it. I am a flash, Siana. And you know me better than most that live. Why?'

'I'm dying?'

'Yes. But that's not what I'm trying to tell you. No. You know me better than most, you are...one of the last Basilicas. Your Uncle is as well, but he does not have that flash in him. That flash. What is it, that gives the basilisk the power to kill with just a glance? Just a glance! Imagine Siana, to look at someone, have them meet your gaze, have them drop dead. What is it that causes it? What is the flash? Give it a name. Please. Please give it a name.'

She could not. She was dying. She decided she was rather stuck on that.

'I'm not ready to die.'

'Siana, at any one time you in particular are in a position to die. Are ready to die. You have nothing keeping you here. You are closer to me. Closer to all of us.'

She wondered at the nearest lightning flash, amongst all those that were more frequent. It looked tall, with arms and legs that bent in too many places.

'Siana, you are a storm. A storm. A force. What you believe, and what you are is inconsequential. One day it won't matter anymore, because you and what you believe will die. There will be nothing left.'

'I'm remembering everything.' Her voice, hoarse. Fear trembling and taking over indifference. 'I remember.'

'No. You only remember one part of many. Why did you pick the Protectus? Why?'

'Because it's strong.'

'Strong? It is extinct. Siana, you are the only Protectus. You will never find another like you. And yet it does not make you any more important, when you go you will be forgotten. You will die. There will be a flash and then? But until then I think you should go away now. I'm tired of talking. I'm not for length, I'm for speed. Imagine all the speed I possess!'

*

She was thrown so hard into wakefulness that she turned over and gagged. Something wet spilled out of her mouth and slid down her chin. Blood. She whimpered in panic, and her hands flew over her lips as she started to sit up. And then a force was pushing her back down and there were footsteps all around her.

'Scouring her out!' Pomfrey was saying. 'I don't know why. Severus said it was a potion he gave her, but it doesn't make any sense. This is too extreme. There's something else. Something else happening to her! Look at her eyes, Albus. Do you see?'

'I see.'

'They're bleeding. Yet I can find no source of injury.'

'They're not quite so violet anymore.' Dumbledore remarked calmly and Siana convulsed while forces moved all around her and stopped the flow of blood. She coughed weakly, slumped back on the bed and trembled.

'Ohhh...' Siana keened. 'Kill me.'

Her eyes were wet, she could hardly see through them. Her stomach roiled. Frederick lived at the corner of her mind, memories pressed in like a thousand octopi waiting to sucker against her.

She roared. Her voice split out of her. Blood flecked. Her back arched and the forces pressed down at her and could not move her. The personality she had dimmed a little, then guttered and burnt.

'Oh I killed her.' She whimpered, but her voice was so strewn and moist that it didn't sound like anything much. Oh I killed her. She started to cry.

Eventually she quietened without passing out, and Madam Pomfrey spelled the blood away. Her body was weak and trembling. Dumbledore was left sitting bowed over her bedside. He looked old, a reassuring elderly man. When he took her hand Siana felt terror glance through her.

'You don't know.' She sobbed and his eyes became sad. His mouth down-turned.

'Severus came to see me.' His eyes flickered upwards once, as though searching for something. He then turned to look at her again.

'Please send me to Azkaban. Please. Albus, listen to me, you have to. You have to! I could do it again. I could. When I get angry, I just lose control.' She coughed up something wet and then turned her face down, and away. Dumbledore made a sound in the back of his throat and then soft towel was pressed against her lips. The wetness seeped into it, and Siana saw it stain red. 'Artemis.' She whispered.

'I'm not sending you to Azkaban.'

'There has to be a retrial.'

'There will be no retrial. It has already happened, and the judge waived the charge. You will have to kill someone else to be admitted in to Azkaban, and I don't think that's going to be happening any time soon.'

He refolded the towel and then dabbed at her eyes. Blood came away.

'Young Hermione was most concerned about you.'

'Hates me. Should. I need to leave. I can't do anything here apart from hurt people. Please don't be nice to me. Please don't.' He went to place the towel at her lap but she yanked it away from him and threw it across the room. 'STOP IT!'

'She's delirious.' Pomfrey said from the shadows behind him and Siana groaned.

'Oh fuck you all. I'm always like this. Always!' She swung sideways and upright. Her feet hit the floor. She was surprised she could stand. So evidently, was Pomfrey. Dumbledore just watched her sombrely.

'I'm going to leave now. Not forever. But...I'll do it myself.' What they can't do. I'll do. I'll get myself admitted into Azkaban. God. I killed her. I can't believe I killed her. What am I? What am I? I'll change. I'll change.

The morph from human to Protectus was instant. The pain was less, but she knew now to be more careful in the shape of this giant fox. Not that she cared anymore. If she destroyed herself through her own actions then the world would be a better place. Voices clouded around her and she deliberately ignored them. Instead she shook her mane, and galloped off.

*

Severus sipped at his antidote cautiously.

'Well she wants to kill herself. That can't be helped. If she does, then so be it. If she doesn't, then I'm sure she'll manage to find some other way. Trust me Albus, when I say she is thoroughly incompetent.'

Dumbledore folded the bloodied towel between his fingers thoughtfully. Severus rinsed his mouth with some water and then leant back on the hospital bed and stared up at the ceiling, his face stern, confused.

'Two things reside in me. Hatred, Albus. This unquenchable hatred, it thirsts and rages, and can't be tamed. I have a deep well of it, that I pull from whenever I need energy or fuel. And towards her I feel like I could just look at her and burn her to a, to nothing but drifting ash. And then I could burn that. And then the second thing, knowledge, calm and implacable knowledge. Knowledge of two things. The first, that she has killed in something that was not quite defence, and not quite cold blood, of voluntary whim. Though the spell she cast was not one designed originally for murder. The second knowledge, that I have killed in cold blood, many times, on voluntary whim with spells designed for the sheer purpose of torture and death.'

He turned on the bed. His face was drawn and tight.

'I know I'm insufferable. I love it. I love the looks on their faces when they hurt...I always did. But I'm not moronic, no, I possess too much by the way of intelligence for that. Regretfully. I don't think of her any worse than I did the moments before she took the potion. If anything...'

'It's called change, Severus. You've changed before, you're more than capable of doing it again.' Dumbledore said respectfully and Severus folded his arms and watched as a breeze swept through the glass windows and ruffled his cloak.

'And now she's off to kill herself. And I wouldn't begrudge it of her. Perhaps it's the one catharsis that will actually give her a sense of closure.'

'Do you really think so, Severus? There was a time when you too, did not want to live. In fact, there were many, if I do recall, and many more again that you concealed from myself. And now, looking back, do you think death would have been the best form of closure?'

Severus sighed and rolled onto his side. The wind worked to shift his greasy hair, there were dark circles under his eyes the colour of mud and ash.

'It would be a form of closure, but not the best. It's been some miracle she hasn't yet died, and I think over the next few days it will be some miracle if she survives. She's useless to the greater cause, or she is now at any rate, Lucius sees her as a toy, and Draco sees her as a conquest.'

'And the Insidious inoculation?'

'Her extreme reaction, yes.' Severus sighed and picked up his own beaker, swallowed the contents. He grimaced at the taste and then put it down again. 'There is no reason that her reaction is due to the potion. It's something else Albus, it has to be. I was expecting something different to the norm, because that is her standard reaction to brews, but at the moment there's something darker at work here. If she doesn't die, she should probably be chained. Somewhere dark. So she's not a harm to herself or anyone else. And under no circumstances should she get hold of wand.'

'I agree to that.' Dumbledore nodded. 'Well within reason, I don't want her chained and in the dark. Darkness does strange things to a person, as you would well know.'

'As I would.' Severus stood, coughed a little and then yawned behind interlinked fingers. Dumbledore also stood, left the towel carefully on the bedspread.

'You know, Severus? I haven't seen you like this in a long time.'

Severus peered over his interlinked hands and then lowered his arms.

'She murdered my sister, Albus. And yet she reminds me of my sister. The same pig-headedness, the same physical vulnerability. Siana may well have loved the death of my sister, which leaves me disgusted...'

'There are some things you can't forget, Severus.'

'Indeed. Those of the past, will never leave me, but there are some things which have come to pass recently, which I also am not permitted to forget. It would be unwise to. Listen to me...I'm sounding like you, old man. It's probably fatigue robbing me of my senses.'

'Severus. I had a student come to me in tears yesterday because of your teaching methods.'

Severus smiled once, wickedly. His eyes gleamed a happy black.

'Permit me my small cruelties, I need something to keep me going.'

Dumbledore frowned.

'Your cruelties are never small, Severus. And don't think that you should relax your guard simply because you dislike the act of murder, for you were much better at sending them insane than you ever were at killing them. It takes one moment of lost control for you to realise your full potential in the realms of the dark arts, and Hogwarts, and the Order of the Phoenix needs you. One should never forget how much darkness they possess, and how much of it they've realised. Now if you'll excuse me, I need a hot chocolate.'

*

Severus wandered a little aimlessly through the grounds, two wands resting alongside him, and conflict pulling. He'd sent four students thus far to Argus Filch, and reprimanded many others. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had glared when they'd seen him, Crabbe and Goyle deferentially moved out of the way, and Professor McGonagall had nodded her head courteously, concern in her eyes. He had refused to nod back, but he knew that she would not take offense in the lack of movement. She'd seen the acknowledgement in his eyes.

While school continued as usual, the wizarding world was under grave danger.

~ Oh my god. I just wanted to get away, I just wanted to. I had to get away from there. They were supposed to put me in Azkaban so I could get away! I loved it. I loved it so much. Oh god. ~

His breathing became irregular, and then settled again. The memory of her almost incoherent from terror was one that he would not forget in a hurry. He had seen many people terrified, indeed, he had been the cause of a lot of it, but this was different. She was headed towards self destruct, and if she died...if she died? And then, what of the physical reaction she was having to the potion? What of that?

He cut across towards the Forbidden Forest.

He had only known one other person who had asked to go to Azkaban before, Arum Orchid, who had been promised a tortuous death by Voldemort. And that same fear had been horrifying, that someone would ask for one form of madness over another form of torture or death.

Severus knew that he himself deserved to go to Azkaban, but he did not want to go there.

He arced past Hagrid's hut and saw the neatly turned out paddocks for the next Care of Magical Creatures lesson. He felt a pang of guilt, his own lesson plans had lost quality, the supervision of his students was erratic at best. Only the other day had Slytherin Thea Audulent been sent to the hospital wing with third degree burns from an Ignis potion. The injury could have been easily prevented, had he been paying attention. Other students knew it. They all treated him with wary caution.

He didn't mind when they followed his form with looks of ear. He enjoyed the special kind of power fear awarded. But caution? He felt like an invalid. They treated him as they would treat an unstable St. Mungo's patient. Besides, he knew what that felt like from past experience, and had no wish to go through it again.

Under the cooler shade of ancient trees now, wondering if he could indeed join the folds as Malfoy wanted him to. He feared he would panic before killing someone, that he would freeze, but this was only mild fear to the terror that he might simply cross that once-crossed line back into the mindlessness of being Voldemort's devotee.

Then again, what had life at Hogwarts done for him recently? Not a hell of a lot.

Landed you in a good deal of bother actually. Instead of triumph you find tribulation, instead of mercy lies menace. And in the midst of it all, her on the edge of your thoughts, as intimate with death as you have been. Perhaps moreso.

And Lucius? For all accounts he already knows what I am. A traitor. I know they do not call me to all the meetings anymore. The day surely approaches when I will be exposed to the Death Eaters for the fraud that I am, and to the open wrath of Voldemort, instead of his hidden punishments. And then? What then? Would I succumb willingly to that torture which I deserve?

Severus scowled.

Certainly not if my death is left in the hands of one dunderhead. Frederick deserves a nice long roasting on a venomous spit. I'd wish him rape by the Dementors if it wasn't for the fact that they wouldn't touch him in the first place.

And however did you manage to graduate in from the Potions Institute when it took you so long to make that damned antidote. Forget that you were dealing with several other sensitive potions. It wouldn't be the first time. Fool. That someone like Frederick could show you up? Disgusted? Ashamed? No word comes close.

He was startled as a spider dropped from a tree to hang in front of him, black with a shiny blue fleck on its abdomen. He hissed lightly and watched it drop to the ground, and then run past him. His head shook and he looked up to make sure there wasn't anymore above him. There were none.

Will start administering vaccination today. I'll test myself first, and the results from that will...

He froze, frowned. The second time in how many weeks? He glared at the large, curled up fox in his sanctuary and cursed under his breath. He'd warded this place, and this is what his wards were worth?

He cleared his throat.

The Protectus looked up very suddenly and the change from mangy extinct creature to haggard Basilica was slow. Her eyes were shadowed from the shade of a tree, her whole face was, but he could see her hands. They shook where they rested against the ground.

'Murderer.' He whispered. His eyebrows lowered, he hadn't expected the word to fall out of his mouth so abruptly. He was planning on working his way up to it.

'Yes.'

'Are you still flashbacking?'

'Yes.' Her voice. Broken. She curled up closer to the tree and her head rolled side to side, as though she were weakly checking her surroundings. 'You can kill me...if you want. I'm sure it's what you want. No one would know.'

'Is there much pain?'

'There's different types now too.' She added with a broken laugh and wiped at her eyes. When her hands came away, they were stained red. He knelt down beside her and took the hand within his own, then looked into her eyes. He frowned. She must not have completed the change to human properly, the irises were not so violet, and had a back-wash of cream through them.

He rested his chin on her hand, with his underneath, and sighed.

'I do not doubt that you will give me cause to kill you soon, but I will not be killing you today, Miss Basilica.'

'I just couldn't help it. I had to. You don't understand.' Broken sobs but no tears. He rather thought she must be sick of her tears by now, especially considering their unusual nature. 'I'm so sorry. I would do anything. Absolutely anything to bring her back. She wasn't the one that was supposed to have died that day.'

'Siana...you...'

'I still like you. Isn't that stupid? So fucked up.' She finished tiredly. 'I don't hate you. Even after what you did to mother. I don't. I want, I want to...' She leaned forward slightly and then he found himself starting as she placed her lips against his hand, the one holding her own, his chin. They were dry and cracked there, and then her tongue slid out and he grimaced uncomfortably. Her eyes were lowered, he could see the brown and red of dried blood there.

And yet, he thought, isn't profound arousal only natural after life threatening circumstances? Continuation of the species, we learnt it in advanced Magic and Nature.

Her tongue was touching the tip of his finger lightly, it too was shaking, a strange sensation. He swallowed and then squeezed her hand more tightly.

'Siana.'

'Please? Just before you kill me.'

He muttered in disgust and threw her backwards, standing. His lips curled.

'You are the most singularly pathetic creature I have ever met in my life. I've met dogs with more dignity than you.'

His fingers were cold where a breeze touched the wetness there. He growled in the back of his throat.

'Your job is to go back to the hospital wing and recover. Then we will...'

He paused as her head moved properly into the light. Her face was gaunt, her lips unnaturally red, cracked in some places. Her face flushed, and her eyes...

'Sweet merciful heaven. Your eyes are changing colour.' She said nothing as he stared at the irises there, shot through with a dull yellow. 'What on earth are you?'

'I'm a tool.' Siana said, then she snorted.

'Pardon me?'

'I mean. I'm a weapon. That's what Hermione said. I've got nothing to do with being me, I've got everything to do with what they can do with me. The mist-wraith said the same thing.'

Severus felt bumps goose up along his skin.

'Mist-wraith?'

'The one in my dream. It looked pretty cool. It looked like Frederick at first, that wasn't so cool. It said a lot of strange things.'

'You spoke to a mist-wraith?'

'Is it against some law that I can't?' Siana said and then stood, it was obvious the pain caused her some difficulty, but at that moment Severus was trying to process what he had already heard. He stared at her odd eyes and then looked away again, unsure what was happening.

'This deserves a meeting. It explains why your family was murdered. It explains why Frederick is still alive.' Severus clicked his fingers. 'We need Dumbledore, and the others. Come along.' He caught her elbow and dragged her out of his sanctuary and back towards Hogwarts.

'But you're not going to explain this to me?' Siana said disgruntled and Severus sighed. Faced her. Paused under the fringe of coolness. It occurred to him that this was entirely surreal, to be standing here talking with her, after only recently finding out she had been the one to kill his sister whilst lucid. He tried to summon the hatred from his well, and found it wouldn't come.

They stood then, her cockiness withdrawing into something more sombre and mournful, he looking at the sky as he desperately searched for some inch of workable hatred that wasn't immediately connected to Frederick.

'Dammit.' He ground out suddenly and she sighed.

'Me too.'

He was shocked as her lips pressed against his. They were pliant but dry, rasping against his own, holding, lingering, before sweeping sideways slightly and repeating the process. Her breath smelt bitter, copper smell of blood lingered. He frowned and then found himself being caught up in sensations which he hadn't experienced since Sibilant Stow. And before then? Too long to be bothered trying to remember when there was a soft body pressed against his.

He raised his hands and gripped her skeletal waist, and captured her lower lip between his teeth as she went to withdraw. Then he sucked, once. Withdrew himself.

'What are you doing?' The most dangerous voice he could muster.

'You taste like potion.' Shaky.

'You taste like blood.'

'You didn't kill me.' She said softly, her voice broke. 'Why not?'

'The masochist said 'hurt me, hurt me' the sadist said 'no.''

'Ha. Ha. Ha. I did it. I feel sick with what I did.'

'Siana. Listen to me. I'm only going to say this once. I am a murderer, I have killed more people than some of the other Death Eaters, and I have tortured more than most. I have a darker streak than Lucius Malfoy on a good day, and I pioneered potions whilst not as insidious as Frederick's, perhaps just as painful. I did it all, in cold blood or in hot passion, all while I was completely lucid. The fact that the after shocks would sicken me so much my heart would sometimes stop did not prevent me from doing it again, and again, of my own conscious accord.

'I am many things, Siana. Even ignorant. But this is one matter that I have thought too much on to let pass with such irrationality. You have murdered one person. Granted, that person was my sister.' He paused here, his hands clenched at his side. 'She was no more or less innocent than those that I killed. Who am I, to condemn you?'

'You condemned me for so long.' She was staring at him in something like wonder.

'Yes. Blindly. Your...blatant and rather self-humiliating confession, followed by your abject, miserable state is punishment enough. It turns out that you torture yourself almost as well as I torture innocents.' He smiled once, wickedly. It was the widest smile he had permitted himself for what felt like weeks. 'You are without a doubt, the most ridiculously flawed individual I have ever had the discourtesy of coming across. You are naïve, immature, irresponsible and prone to unusually disturbing bouts of sickness and encounters with death which make me not only wonder at your death wish, but wish for death on your behalf. Another encounter and I largely suspect that will be it for the female Basilicas.'

'That's...' She paused and folded her arms. 'I have this strange urge to both say thank you and hit you.' She looked past him and frowned.

'Someone wants you.'

Severus turned to see the bluish light zip towards him then freeze, Dumbledore's face looking concerned. Simultaneously Severus hissed as a sharp pain lanced through his arm, he looked down to see smoke wafting through his robes. The Dark Mark. He raised worried eyes.

'Wards. Include Siana.' Dumbledore said and Severus yanked both wands out of his pocket and chose the right one. He cast solid wards around both Siana, Dumbledore's face and himself.

'It's happened sooner than we think, Severus. Sirius Black has gone missing, Remus has just visited me with rather severe concussion, Harry too is in the hospital wing. Remus says they were attacked. It has also come to my attention that some of the jail guards at Azkaban were being directed under Insidious. The Dementors have been set loose. I need to see you in the staffroom, bring Siana with you if her health permits.'

'My arm.' Severus said quietly and Dumbledore frowned. A flicker of frustration crossed his features.

'Immediately?'

'I have enough time for ten minutes, then I'm going to have to go. It is worse than you think Albus. Siana has been visited by a mist-wraith. They had a...conversation.'

Albus turned his attention to Siana.

'When was this?'

'In my sleep, before I woke up.'

Albus Dumbledore turned back to Severus. 'They're going to try and reactivate the death magic. In force. Hurry, Severus. The staffroom.'

The blue light disappeared, but Severus kept the wards up. He faced Siana and took one of her blood stained hands in his own. Her hand was cold, his were burning, fire was racing up and down his arm.

'I need to tell you this now, in case I don't get a chance to after the meeting. I don't hate you, and don't, under any circumstances let any of the Death Eaters touch you. I don't understand death magic, I only know what I have been told by people who also didn't understand it. There is talk, that death magic is not something you control, but something that is activated. Once activated it cannot be stopped.'

'What?'

'That is all I know, otherwise you will have to ask Albus. If you get suddenly ill, do not let Madam Pomfrey give you anything more severe than a simple Bettering draught, any more and you will be pushed into physical collapse. Bed rest in the dungeons is the best thing for you.'

He tried not to wince as the pain in his arm increased. More smoke wafted, and Siana was standing there with an expression of clear shock on her face.

'Come along now, and try not to wish as fervently for Black's death as I am.' Severus raised his eyes to the sky. 'One can only hope for small miracles in a time of intense crisis.'