Essence Of Infinity
By BlueHot Chronicles
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of BlueHot Chronicles. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note:
Jasmine (as I've named her) is an unnamed character from the Harry Potter movies. I've written about her before under my original pseudonym Bluehot, but I'm going to delete that account plus rewrite and edit the stories (not all) that I've published there. I had been leaning toward not republishing those stories here on this account, but one reader has recently asked that I continue the story Promises And Lies - Awww - so I will try.
This story is AU and an X-Men crossover; it is also a Sequel to Storm & The Half-Blood Prince. To be honest I'm clueless as to why this story clung to me; it made me pause in a Charmed crossover I've been working on, to write this story to its completion.
Summary:
The summer before Dumbledore's death, Harry Potter frequented one diner. The summer after that, Death Eaters stalked a lone young waitress to her home and Voldemort gained a new weapon. AU, Multiple POVs. OFC, OMC.
~~~(*)~~~(*)~~~
Chapter One
"Crucio!"
Screams. Hair-raising, heart-wrenching cries of pain and terror.
Severus looked on at the torture of the Dark Lord's new victim. His mien was one of practised boredom. Deep inside where Voldemort could never penetrate, he raged at the necessity of his position as a spy.
Otherwise, they'd all be dead, including the Dark Lord who'd probably return to his wraith form. But, no... Voldemort had to be killed by the wand of Harry Potter. Severus himself wanted to kill the foolish boy.
Potter - Merlin curse the bloody idiot - had left the safety of his home over the summer the year before to constantly patronise a muggle diner. There, he'd met the unfortunate female currently in the midst of a circle of Death Eaters; the Dark Lord among them.
"prerë dhe shqyej!"
The tortured screams were finally silenced as her throat was ripped out as if by the claws of an animal, and Severus felt both saddened and relieved that her pain was over.
He was wrong.
Severus watched in horror - the other Death Eaters, in fascination; the Dark Lord, in glee - as the girl's wounds began to heal before their eyes and she took a deep ragged breath. For one brief moment, Severus allowed his mask to slip as his eyes closed in resignation.
His flare of hope to be caught and killed immediately was dashed, as everyone was too focused on the non-magickal miracle happening before them.
Death was not coming for this young girl, and he knew the Dark Lord would want him to find out why, and possibly recreate it with a potion.
Bloody, foolish Potter!
He had done this! Everything that was about to happen was that boy's fault, all of it.
Severus knew he wouldn't be surprised if Potter had been careless on purpose, hoping to keep the Dark Lord away from his pathetic friends and that Weasley girl who kept making eyes at him.
The Potions Master swore to himself that when all this was over, and if by some happy twist of fate they were all still alive, he would make Harry Potter pay for this day and those to follow.
~~~(*)~~~(*)~~~
A/N: Bold letters in this section are memories. Italics are for thoughts and emphasis. Words enclosed in ~ and * are telepathic thoughts.
Three weeks later and Severus wanted to... briefly... shake Potter's hand for his selfishness.
"What day is it?"
Severus found that the cauldron's hypnotic sounds were almost obscene in the dark and, surprisingly quiet, Malfoy dungeon. The potion continued bubbling away merrily as he added a teaspoon of Motherwort and a pinch of Fairy Wing dust. He stirred the lilac - for now - coloured concoction using the infinity motion for the next few stirs.
The girl had been placed within a Solitary Ward conjured in the dungeon, per Severus' request, to prevent mistakes with the potion the Dark Lord had demanded he create.
"This muggle female is my best weapon yet in defeating Harry Potter. You, Severus, will find a way to transfer her power to me."
"Of course, my Lord."
Severus had made excuses for needing her healthy and readily available to him. Citing that the fresher her blood, the more potent his potion should be. The Dark Lord had obliged, and the girl had been magickally cut off and concealed from the rest of the dungeon.
Severus had thought of and discarded numerous plans of smuggling the girl away from the clutches of the Dark Lord. The outcome of his plans all ended the same in his mind... with them being caught and tortured; he forced to make the potion anyway, and then death.
Unfortunately, Severus' reasoning was actually one of selfishness. He wanted to create the potion. It would be his shining glory, academically, and he could have a fresh start, a second chance at a better life for himself.
He was sorry though, that the girl had to be used this way. There was no way around it. He had no plans of giving the potion to the Dark Lord and he already knew how he was going to switch it for the one he'd started long ago.
Once the Dark Lord consumed that potion, he would be magickally weakened and he would never know - well - not immediately. His spells would seem as powerful as ever but like the muggles say, he would be shooting blanks.
This delightful moment was some time away though, and - quite disturbingly - his constant and close proximity, along with him being her only visitor, had impelled the girl to form an attachment to him.
At first, she'd been terrified of him, but her actions remained strange and familiar. When she constantly tried to ward him off by aiming her fists or her open palms at him, he'd finally realised. She'd been trying to use some form of magick on him.
She finally admitted that she didn't actually have magick and that she thought the danger she was in would have been enough to make magick or something emerge.
"I guess healing was all I got."
Severus heard a note of disappointment and wondered what she meant by the statement.
Once he knew what to look for, he could sense the magick within her. It was not the same frequency as a wizard, but something entirely different. He'd warned her that to continue her efforts, especially in the presence of any of the other Death Eaters, would be even more dangerous to the both of them. He told her nothing about her weird latent magick.
"Besides, even if you had any magick, the dampening crystals buried throughout the dungeons would prevent you from using it."
The barrier he'd placed around himself and his workstation was the only spot in the dungeon any magick would work.
"It is Friday," he finally replied to her usual query, once he sensed that no one was nearby to witness their exchange.
"Wouldn't the Motherwort neutralize the effects of the Fairy Wing dust?"
Severus allowed a hint of approval to glimmer in his eyes as he glanced at her before quickly returning his gaze to the cauldron.
"Not if I do the appropriate number of stirs - infinity, as you can see - then add three teaspoons of Elf Leaf gel, each added separately after twenty Infinity stirs." He added one teaspoon of Elf Leaf and began another set of stirring. "Like so."
Severus stirred the potion smoothly as he absently counted. He couldn't help but feel a spark of appreciation for the girl's genuine willingness to learn. And she was learning, evidenced by the foreknowledge she showed of the effects of one potion ingredient on another.
It saddened him that her willingness stemmed from wanting an attachment to any living being close at hand. That person had to be himself as she was left completely alone until he returned.
Thankfully, the Dark Lord had taken his recommendation seriously. Severus knew he had to have something to show for the Dark Lord's restraint.
"I don't think my mum's going to find me."
Severus almost paused in his stirring but experience kept him on track; this was not a part of her usual ramblings.
"I don't understand... they always find me."
Severus had told her about the dampening crystals when he'd realised she'd been trying to force herself to use magick, but what he hadn't told her was that the Dark Lord had also placed a concealment charm and other spells on her. No one was going to find her here using magick, and a muggle wouldn't even know she existed.
"The only thing I've ever brewed is coffee."
Ah... we're back on track, Severus thought to himself.
"I used to work at a diner near King's Cross..."
The Potions Master blocked out the sound of her voice as he continued adding the Elf Leaf gel and stirring. The potion Severus was creating was actually a level ten potion; dangerous and would be labelled as banned from ever being brewed. His knowledge of the high level came from the ingredients he added or had to discard.
Severus didn't even need the girl's blood yet, as it was the last step of the potion, blood was always the last step. Everything he did now was just for show. He was going to be the one to take down the Dark Lord, and this potion was going to be his defence; the other, his weapon. To hell with Potter, and Dumbledore's 'mission'.
The Dark Lord had killed the woman Severus had loved, after filling his head with litanies of false hope and promises of glory.
For seventeen years the Potions Master had plotted while waiting for one ingredient to mature enough for harvesting.
Voldemort was as good as dead.
~~~(*)~~~(*)~~~
"I used to work at a diner near King's Cross."
Jasmine could feel her mind slipping away from the present again. She wished the wizard would speak some more about his potions to keep her from losing herself, but he adamantly refused to make any more of a connection than he already had.
Just then, a shadow moved in her peripheral near the entrance to her cell, but it was just the Potions Master, who moved so silently and swiftly he was back at his cauldron before she freaked out too much.
Jasmine closed her eyes in relief; for a moment she thought it would be him the man she'd nicknamed Dungeon Creep. Almost every night, once the Potions Master left or wasn't around, Dungeon Creep would approach her cell and just stand there… staring blankly, saying nothing.
Until last night.
"I will have you…"
Jasmine would curl up like a ball in the corner next to her cot, and turned away from him with her hands cupped over her ears. Though she was a virgin, she knew what sex entailed, and when she heard his raspy, moaned words of 'God, I can't wait to have you writhing under me…', fear became like a living shroud that made every hair on her body stand on end.
Mum… dad… please find me!
But...
Daddy had died that night… and mum would definitely be too destroyed to search for me.
The love her parents shared spanned the multiverse; rivalled only by the multitude of realities where her mother loved and married the wizard currently stirring his potion across the room.
This reality of her mother had even crossed over from another after her wizard had passed away and their son - Jasmine's stepbrother - had grown up and moved on with his life.
Her mother had found her father, and years later they'd had Jasmine. Now her father was dead; she should have been more careful about whom she spoke to, but she'd been intrigued by the boy who'd visited the diner almost every other day that summer, and then he'd finally asked her out.
"Harry Potter... who's Harry Potter?" she'd asked and he'd replied that Harry Potter was a nobody and a tosser.
Ugh... she'd been so stupid! Stupid to trust him, and to agree to go out with him. She'd glimpsed the picture moving on his newspaper; Jasmine had known that the boy had to be a wizard, and still, she'd made the mistake of sharing her small magickal - laughably, almost non-existent - inheritance. Not that he'd noticed, which said a lot about either his intelligence or his state of mind at that time. However, she'd chalked it up to him being too into her.
Conceited much, Jazzy?
She'd waited for him outside of the diner for fifteen minutes before giving up and going home. Jasmine had been prepared to ignore his ass for skipping on her, but she had never seen him again.
Then one night, almost a year later, she'd closed up late with Miss Anna and decided to walk the twenty-minute distance to her home alone after getting off the bus, instead of waking her father, who didn't enjoy visiting their London home.
The beginning of her journey had been going fine until she heard a rumble of thunder in the distance and a gust of wind rustled through the trees along the sidewalk.
Five minutes away from the barrier to her mother's land, where there were no more houses nearby, and the trees on either side of the dirt road thickened, Jasmine sensed malevolent energies directed toward her. It was all the mutant ability she'd inherited from two powerful mutants, and again, she pushed aside her feelings of disappointment and inadequacy.
A sharp crack of thunder accompanied her unease and Jasmine quickened her pace. There shouldn't be anyone around, anyone dangerous that is, her father would have known immediately, and taken care of any who came looking for trouble.
A rustle in the bushes that had nothing to do with the increasing winds, made her glance sharply in that direction. A disgusting looking rat with a metal paw was keeping pace with her, and with no interest in finding out what kind of mutant was tracking her, Jasmine bolted.
She thought she heard a muttered curse behind her as she ran, but she couldn't be sure. She was near the Wards, and once she crossed them whoever the mutant was wouldn't be able to get to her.
CRACK!
A beam of red light shot past her; she screamed and ducked in time to dodge another red beam.
Multiple CRACKS!
Her heart hammered in her chest; those weren't mutants that were still chasing her across the barrier... they were much worse.
Wizards!
They'd taken down her mother's Wards! Something no one, not even wizards, should have been able to do. A quick glance behind her revealed four black-cloaked figures with masks that gleamed menacingly in the darkness. She saw her home up ahead, and she did something she would, ever after, regret.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
"Petrificus Totales!" Jasmine's arms slammed into her sides, her legs clamped together and her body fell forward, as stiff as a statue. Fear swamped her in her helpless state and her breath caught when she felt rough hands turning her to her back.
"Filthy, muggle bi-"
An enraged roar bellowed from the trees and Jasmine had never felt so relieved and happy to witness a man's head roll away from his slowly slumping body. Her father stood over her protectively as she still couldn't move.
"Stupefy!"
That single curse poured from the remaining three wizards, slowing her father's forward charge, but he didn't stop and the wizards backed away in shock and disbelief.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Jasmine heard the curse from the witch standing some distance behind her. Her mind froze along with her body and time seemed to slow as her father fell backwards, his body hitting the ground beside her.
She waited, forever it seemed, for him to get back up like he usually did, but he didn't move. The witch, whose face was masked like the others, gripped her hair and twisted Jasmine's head and body in a painful and awkward position.
"Such resilience; but daddy shouldn't have been a filthy muggle beast and killed one such as us. The games we could have played, him and I."
There lay her father, unmoving, his eyes wide open and lifeless.
Jasmine screamed... and screamed. All inside.
Her body was uncooperative, and tears refused to come as her heart broke.
