"You fell in love with a storm. Did you really think you would get out unscathed?" ~ Nikita Gill

ooOoo

January 5, 1995~

It all started quite innocently enough, with a glass of cold pumpkin juice.

At the Ravenclaw table, only one seat was empty, right next to Eugenia Hargrove. The fourth-year student looked nervous, and with good reason. If she were to be caught doing what she intended to do, she would almost certainly get detention, if not expelled. She drew her wand, ignoring the chatter of the other students who sat around her.

Whispering softly under her breath, she casually whirled her wand over her head. She wasn't worried about someone spotting her wand-waving, as students practiced wand motion more or less constantly. So long as the charm wasn't detected as something out of the ordinary—and it certainly wasn't an unusual spell for a fourth-year student to be practicing—it would be unlikely to attract much attention. Looking around herself, she swallowed uneasily, and then waved her hand in front of Maria Glossop, the student sitting next to her. Her fellow student didn't even blink, carrying on her conversation with Jenny Schumacher concerning their Charms class assignment as if Eugenia wasn't even there.

It worked! The now disillusioned Eugenia thought, now fairly glowing with excitement. Only a few more minutes until she gets here, as she's always late to dinner after Quiddich practice. I'd better hurry.

Being detected while disillusioned was the least of her worries. She knew that she had only a few minutes before a Professor might become suspicious, or her intended victim might arrive early by chance. Either event would mean disaster for her plan.

Quickly, she took a vial from the pocket of her robes. After another quick glance around herself to make sure the charm was still working, she emptied the vial into the glass of pumpkin juice that was set out at the empty seat. Picking up a spoon, she quickly stirred the contents in, and then she dried off the spoon and replaced it with the other silverware at the empty seat.

"Finite incantaeum." She whispered, glancing nervously around herself as she ended the charm. No one seemed to pay her any mind.

"Maria," She said, turning to the girl next to her, just as the Ravenclaw Quiddich team members began to filter into the Great Hall, "Do you want my sweet roll? I don't really like them that much."

Maria nodded, taking the sweet roll from her with a grateful smile.

"Do you need any help with the Transfiguration essay assignment?" She asked, placing the sweet roll on her bread plate.

"Oh, no, I've got that one done already." Eugenia smiled. "It was really not that difficult. You just pull your elbow back slightly just before you do the downward swish, and it all falls into place after that."

"Really? I didn't think of trying that." Maria frowned. "I really had to work at it to get it to even halfway work."

"It's easy; I'll show you the wand motion after dinner."

A petite blond, her long hair still damp from a hurried shower, sat down in the empty seat. She picked up the pumpkin juice and drained the glass, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction as she sat down in the empty chair. She smiled at Eugenia and the other Ravenclaw students.

"Oh, that is so good!" Exclaimed sixth-year student Marie Delacour, reaching over for the pitcher of pumpkin juice to refill her glass. "Merlin, I am so very thirsty!"

"Rough practice, Marie?" Eugenia asked innocently, intently watching her housemate.

Taking another drink, Marie nodded, picking up her napkin to dab at her mouth.

"Oui, 'genia!" She replied, taking out her wand to apply drying and styling charms to her hair. "Coach Flitwick, he was absolutely brutal this afternoon! Even though there are no games, because of the Triwizard Tournament, we still had to run, up and down the stairs of the bleachers, like a bunch of Muggles! I felt like my legs would fall off, and I haven't even gotten a chance to see my cousin Fleur all week! It's awful!"

Eugenia, nodding her head agreeably as if she cared, watched her most hated rival with eager anticipation as continued to chatter on about her busy day, and how rude Professor Snape was lately to everyone, and her doubts that the Ravenclaw's new seeker would be ready by the next Quiddich match.

The potion should take effect any second now, Eugenia thought, smiling pleasantly. You'll get what's coming to you, bitch.

ooOoo

January 9, 1995, morning~

"How long have you felt poorly, dear?"

"Um…since the seventh, I think." Marie mumbled around the thermometer in her mouth as she watched Poppy move a wand over her body. "That's when I really started feeling bad. I'm sure that I had fever this morning when I woke up, that's why I came to see you."

The Medi-witch removed the thermometer and squinted at the reading, frowning at it.

"Well, you certainly don't seem to have a fever, dear." She said, scourgifying the thermometer and putting it away. Reaching up with both hands, she gently palpated the lymph nodes under Marie's jaw, checking for any swelling or tenderness that could indicate a virus or bacterial infection.

"But, I feel cold all the time…and I have chills, too." The girl protested. "I just ache constantly, and I…"

Her voice trailed off, with a deep blush spreading across her face.

"What is it, dear?" Poppy asked gently. "You can tell me, I won't tell a soul."

"I don't know how to explain it, Madame Pomphrey." Marie shrugged, looking away to worry at a nearly invisible speck of lint on her robes. "I…I just have the strangest dreams lately."

"Can you tell me anything about them?"

"No…they make no sense at all. I'm always wandering about Hogwarts in them, in my nightgown, at night. No particular place, but I remember being in the dungeons near the Potions classroom, the Astronomy tower, the library. I remember that I'm usually afraid of being caught. I…I always wake up all sweaty, and the covers are all tangled around me, as if I'd been running."

"That's certainly odd." Poppy said, writing some notes in a folder. "In your dream, is something chasing you, perhaps? Do you remember anything about it, what it might be?"

"No, never. It's like I'm trying to find something, to catch something."

"Do you know what it is?"

"No, no idea." Marie frowned, pursing her lips tightly. "But it's important to me, I remember that. I desperately need it. I just can't remember for the life of me what it might be."

ooOoo

January 10, 1995, evening~

As noisy as the evening meal often could be in the Great Hall, you could hear a pin drop this particular evening. The hush was shattered by a metallic clang as a pitcher hit the floor, flung there by a furious Eugenia Hargrove. Instantly, the students erupted into a babble of hushed whispers regarding what the fourth-year Ravenclaw had just done as she turned and walked rapidly toward the door to the hallway. Before she reached the doorway, however, the large doors closed with a hollow thunk. Eugenia stamped her foot, glaring at them in frustration.

"Miss Hargrove!" Professor McGonagall snapped as she rapidly approached the Ravenclaw table, with Professor Flitwick running along behind her on his short legs. "What on earth has gotten into you, young lady?!"

Quickly transfiguring a napkin into a heavy terrycloth bathrobe, Minerva quickly put it around Marie's shoulders and cast a warming charm on it, as the student stood there next to the table. She was shivering violently, having just had the pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice poured over her head, soaking her robes and school uniform clear through. Her hair was darker now, no longer light honey blonde, and stuck to her face in strands. She looked every bit like a half-drowned cat.

"Miss Hargrove, come with me." Professor Flitwick said with a frown. "You will be confined to your room for the weekend for this, as well as have detention with me."

Abruptly, Marie doubled over with a shriek of pain, forcing Professor Flitwick to catch her instead as the student collapsed in a heap. Taking advantage of the distraction, Eugenia slipped away into the crowd of students, smirking as she used disillusionment to vanish into thin air.

"Hagrid!" Madame Pomphrey called, lifting her skirts and running as fast as she could to where Marie was now doubled up in agony on the floor. The half-giant got up, easily catching up to her, closely followed by Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape.

Eugenia looked around herself, and then quietly slipped toward the crowd of students waiting to leave near the doors, ending the charm that concealed her. Everyone was gawking at her screaming housemate, so she nearly made it to the door before a shadowy figure materialized in front of her with a crack and a swirl of black smoke.

"Tut-tut, Miss Hargrove." Snape said silkily, ropes spouting from the end of his wand that neatly bound her feet and hands. "It would be…rather rude to leave before we get to the bottom of this little spat. Don't you agree?"

ooOoo

Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and Hagrid looked up as Professor Snape came out of the hospital room, followed by Poppy. Snape put his hands in his pockets of his robes and leaned against the wall. Eugenia Hargrove sat the corner, unable to speak due to Snape having added langlock to keep her quiet after binding her to a chair. The young Ravenclaw silently glared up at him as he stolidly ignored her, a somewhat bored expression on his face.

As the door closed behind her, Poppy surveyed the people in the waiting room uneasily.

"How is she, Poppy?" Asked Professor Flitwick, getting out of his seat next to Dumbledore and walking over to her.

"Well, she's resting now." The Medi-witch said, moving to a chair and sitting down. "I had to give her enough Dreamless Sleep to knock out a hippogriff. This…I've never seen anything like this before."

With a sigh, she removed the bright green earmuffs she was wearing and handed them to Hagrid.

"When you give these back to Pomona, tell her I said they worked wonderfully. It'll be a thousand wonders if that girl has any voice left at all, the way she was screeching."

Hagrid nodded, stuffing the earmuffs in one of the many pockets of his huge overcoat.

"So," Poppy said, looking over at Professor Flitwick, "Filius, did you manage to find out what all of this was about?"

"Just teenage jealousy, it seems." Flitwick sighed. "You know, the usual petty dispute between young girls. Miss Hargrove thought Miss Delacour was flirting with her boyfriend too much, and dumped the pumpkin juice on her. Though that would not explain the screaming fit she suffered afterwards, of course."

Poppy shook her head with a disgusted sigh.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said, leaning toward her, "more importantly, have you been able to determine what is ailing Miss Delacour?"

"No, Albus." The Medi-witch said, shaking her head again. "No fever, no tenderness when I examined her, nor when I examined her a few days ago. I do hope it's not a curse of some kind. Professor Snape examined her for any signs of Dark Magic, but found nothing. Most perplexing."

"How odd." Flitwick said, frowning. "You're sure she hasn't be hexed?"

"Quite sure, Filius." Snape said dryly. "If she was, it wore off soon after I began to examine her. I found no evidence of a hex or curse. I believe she just had some sort of hysteric fit, a reaction to the assault by Miss Hargrove."

"I'm going to keep her here in the Hospital Wing," Poppy said, "just to observe her for a while. Until we know what it is, at least."

"Let us know if you find out anything, Poppy." Dumbledore said quietly. "Severus? I suggest that while Miss Hargrove is absent from her room, that you and I go see what might be there. Perhaps we will not need your skills as a legilimens."

"Agreed, Headmaster." Snape nodded, following Dumbledore from the room.

No one noticed the expression on Eugenia's face shift from sullen anger to something more resembling panic.

ooOoo

The next morning, Marie woke up, surprising Poppy by getting out of bed and wandering up to the front desk, where the Medi-witch was marking her charts. She immediately led Marie to the examination room, where she spent nearly a half hour running her wand over her and muttering diagnostic spells.

"But I'm fine, Poppy." Marie protested. "Really, I feel wonderful. I don't even feel feverish or anything. I feel great."

"No cramping, no pain?" The Medi-witch asked, getting a thermometer. "Are you sure? When you collapsed in the Great Hall, you were screaming like a banshee. I had to borrow some of Professor Sprout's earmuffs that she uses when pruning mandrakes."

"I was?" Marie asked, blushing. "I-I don't remember anything of that. Really, I don't."

"Trust me, young lady." Poppy said, sticking the thermometer in her mouth under her tongue, "You were. My ears are still ringing from it. Now, take this note, go to your room, and get your robes and books. You have just enough time to make it to your last class before lunch."

After another thirty minutes or so of poking, prodding, and wand-waving with no results, Poppy gave in and allowed her to dress and leave the Hospital Wing. Marie felt wonderful, skipping down the hallway exuberantly as she made her way toward Ravenclaw Tower. With not a cloud in the sky today, the sun was shining brightly, a sight that filled her heart with joy; it meant that Professor Flitwick might relent and allow the Ravenclaw team to work out on their brooms instead.

Oh, how I love to fly, she thought happily, speeding up her pace until her feet were fairly flying across the stone floor, her long blonde braids trailing out behind her.

Rounding a corner, she ran smack into someone, falling backwards and landing hard on her bottom, blushing as her skirt rode up on her thighs in a most embarrassing manner. Marie cried out in pain, scrambling to her feet.

"Connard!" She exclaimed irritably, yanking her skirt back down into place and rubbing her fanny. "Watch where you're going, you crétin!"

"But of course." Severus Snape hissed softly, looming over her in his black robes. With a squeak of terror, Marie backed away from him until she hit the wall behind her, trembling with fear. The tall Potions Professor glided toward her, folding his arms dramatically across his chest as he glared down at the cringing Ravenclaw student.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for running in the halls, Miss Delacour." He sneered, cocking his head slightly. "As this is not the Quiddich field, nor your personal playground. Also, another ten points will be taken for…foul language. Comprenez-vous? Now, walk to your dormitory, or it will be…detention."

She furiously glared up at him for a moment, her fear of him forgotten, and then scrambled to her feet. For a moment, Marie glared up at him, as if she could somehow transmit her hatred of him through her blue eyes, her fingers straying toward the pocket that her wand was in.

"Such…a…temper you have." Snape purred softly, raising one eyebrow mockingly as he leaned closer to her, almost as if he were goading her to act. "Surely you are not planning to add…assault on a professor to today's misadventures, are you? Perhaps…you would like to have detention added, as well points taken."

Her blue eyes locked with his for a long moment, her lower lip trembling slightly.

Such dark eyes, she thought, and then blinked, shuddering slightly.

What just happened to me? Marie wondered, feeling somewhat woozy. Carefully, she took her hand away from her wand, breaking eye contact with Professor Snape.

"No?" He smirked, raising one eyebrow. "Then, go to your dormitory, and walk."

Pick your battles, Marie, she mused, forcing herself to nod submissively. As much as you despise him, this is not the time, and you don't need any more trouble.

Biting her lip hard enough that she tasted blood, she turned and walked away from him, struggling to keep her temper in check. It took all of her self-control not to stamp her feet as she made her way down the corridor, she was so angry. As it was, she was fairly trembling with rage, her hands clenched tightly and her back rigid.

I utterly despise that awful man, Marie fumed as she made her way to Ravenclaw tower. He is so unfair, so…hateful, so…oooh!

I hate him.

I should have hexed him, detention or no detention. It would be worth it just to get a shot in, to teach him a lesson.

She was still so angry that she botched the answer to the riddle at the statue, and was forced to wait until someone from her house returned to let her in.

ooOoo

January 25, 1995, nearly dawn~

She sighed drowsily, stirring in that twilight between sound sleep and waking up, the first rays of dawn causing her to squeeze her eyes shut more tightly. It was warm in her bed, warmer than usual, and she felt so comfortable, she wanted to sleep some more. With a drowsy yawn, she hugged her pillow a bit tighter.

So warm and comfy, she thought, smiling slightly. The house elves are definitely doing a better job of keeping my room warm enough. I'll have to remember to thank them.

Five more minutes, she sighed to herself, not willing to leave her warm bed just yet. Just five more minutes, and then I'll get up.

Her pillow felt rather odd, very firm and warm, not at all like the feather pillows she usually slept with. With an effort, she opened one eye, frowning groggily. Something didn't seem right here.

She blinked a few times, trying to clear up her vision; she was certain that she was seeing things. Her eyes widened in surprise as she slowly realized that she was not alone in the bed, nor was it her bed, or even her bedroom. In fact, absolutely nothing in the room looked familiar to her at all. A heavy, ornately carved oak four-poster canopy bed, simple in design, but obviously very old. Luxurious dark green flannel sheets, a heavy quilt atop them, with a matching dark green canopy that was trimmed with gold braid overhead. A heavy dresser and bedside table, matched to the bed.

Pillows don't have…abdominal muscles, she thought uneasily, a sick feeling coming over her. I'm in someone's bed…oh, Merlin, this is bad…

Where am I?

Just as she feared, it was not her pillow that she was hugging to her with her arm, but a grown man, his back to her. Scarcely daring to breathe, she carefully raised herself up in the bed to peer at his face, half hidden as it was by long black hair-

Professor Snape.

He was sleeping deeply, his mouth slack, his face for once relaxed and peaceful. She watched him for several minutes, fascinated by this expression on the face of the fearsome Potions professor who terrorized her and her fellow students on a regular basis. It took all the self-control she possessed not to snatch her hand away, to carefully and slowly ease it away from his abdomen. With a soft sigh, he rolled over on his back, toward her, frowning slightly as he grasped the quilt and pulled it back up to his chin. After a few more minutes, he drifted back into deeper sleep, snoring lightly.

She was close enough to his face that she could feel his breath on her skin, count every tiny bit of stubble on his chin and cheeks. Marie sat as still as she could, scarcely daring to even breathe, lest she wake him. Her blood seemed to have turned to ice in her veins, freezing her in place, half sitting up on the bed in terror. The urge to flee blindly in terror was overwhelming, only checked by her certainty that she would easily be caught if she did.

Snape. Oh, Merlin…I'm in Snape's quarters, in his bed with him…

How did I happen to get here?

I have to get out of here, she thought, struggling to control her rising panic as she looked around the room for the door. I have to get out of here right now, before he wakes up and gives me detention for the rest of the year, or worse!

She carefully eased away from him, a few inches at a time, until she was able to slide out of the bed to the floor. Thankfully, his face was turned away from the door, which made it just a bit easier to slip out of the bedroom, her bare feet making no sound on the cold stone floor. After a few wrong turns, she found herself in the Potions classroom, slowly opening the door to cautiously peek out into the hallway. It was quiet and empty, not even a ghost wandering about the dungeons at this wee hour.

Looks like there were no wards on the door, at least, she thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin for that small bit of luck.

Easing the door shut gently, she cautiously crept down the hallway, her nerves on a raw edge.

Nearly sunup, she thought, biting her lip nervously. I've got to get back to the tower, and quickly.

Her heart caught in her throat as she heard footsteps that seemed all too familiar, coming slowly down the hall. Her worst fears were confirmed when she heard him cough, a dry raspy hacking that made her skin crawl.

Merde! She thought, trembling in fear. It's Filch!

She quickly moved out of the corridor into an alcove and hid behind a statue of Cygnus Black II, closing her eyes and holding her breath. Biting her lip, she listened helplessly as the old caretaker came closer to her hiding spot. Just as he drew even with her, his old cat gave a hissing yowl, glaring in Marie's general direction. Only a few feet separated her and the cat, its yellow eyes staring hatefully at her as it growled at her.

Oh, no, she groaned inwardly. I'm going to be caught for sure now!

"What rotten luck, Mrs. Norris." Filch grumbled as he shuffled by, shifting her to the other shoulder and stroking her fur gently. "I was sure I'd catch a student out of bed tonight. Could do with some entertainment, couldn't we, my love?"

Trembling with fear, Marie remained completely still in her hiding place. The hateful cat still glared malevolently at her over Filch's shoulder, but the old caretaker kept a steady pace as he meandered down the hallway. Grumbling the whole time, he steadfastly ignored the cat hissing at Marie again and again.

That's odd, she thought uneasily. I was sure I would get caught for sure once that damn cat saw me. I can't believe he didn't notice.

Why didn't he see me?

She waited, holding her breath until Filch rounded the corner, and then made her move, praying that she wouldn't run into anyone else. Her bare feet barely skimming the cold stone floor, she ran through the dungeons like a doe pursued by hounds, desperately trying to make it to Ravenclaw tower before the other students woke up.

ooOoo

With great effort, Severus Snape opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight that filtered into his bedroom the single window looking out into the lake. He rubbed his eyes, struggling to wakefulness, wishing that is was Sunday and he could perhaps sleep in a bit.

How utterly disappointing, he mused grimly, letting out a long sigh of disgust. I'm still alive.

How much longer can I keep this game up?

A wave of pain crashed through his head, causing him to groan in agony as he cradled his aching head in his hands. He licked his lips to moisten them, his mouth dry as cotton lint and tasting about the same.

Something is coming, I can feel it, he thought gloomily. All too soon, these idyllic, peaceful days will come to an end. Every time I go to Hogsmeade, Knockturn Alley especially, I can feel it in my bones. The Death Eaters, cowed still they might be, but they are more active lately.

Something is in the air.

But what?

I hate this bloody tournament. I hate dealing with these boring Ministry lackeys, with that paranoid lunatic Moody, with that pompous windbag Karkaroff. It's bad enough having to suffer through this circus, never mind the fact that someone is trying their hardest to get Harry Potter killed. I wish this stupid contest was over with so I might get some rest.

But every time I turn around, something has been tampered with, endangering his life. Beginning with his name coming out of that thrice-cursed cup, this has been a string of 'accidents' that are deliberately orchestrated to separate 'the boy who lived' from his life. I'm forced to work miracles, it would seem, to keep him safe.

Someone who is very crafty, very clever, and leaves no clues behind is doing this.

But who is it?

Who is manipulating the tournament? I can name a half-dozen potential suspects, but most of them are disqualified by one reason or another, usually lack of access or motive.

Maddening.

Who stole gillyweed from my private stores? Potter? Granger? Surely not Weasley?

The last thought brought a bitter smile to his lips, but only for a moment as his head began to pound once again. He closed his eyes and grimaced, trying to mentally blunt the pain of his hangover.

Probably a good idea not to drink firewhiskey on nights that I've had a dose of Dreamless Sleep, he thought as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning. The effects of the combination are somewhat less than desirable.

I desperately need a hangover potion; he frowned, rubbing his hand over his face irritably. Something was tickling his nose, despite his best efforts to brush it off.

Spider webs, or that cursed Peeves playing yet another prank, he sighed irritably, swiping again at it with his hand, feeing it tangle around his fingers. He squinted at it blearily, yawning, as he tried to figure out which it was. As his eyes slowly focused on it in the dim light, he sat bolt upright in the bed with a gasp of shock.

Tangled around his fingers was a single long blonde hair.

It was the last straw.

With a muttered curse, he threw the covers back and got out of bed. Accioing his clothing, he dressed quickly. When he stormed out into the hall, fairly seething with rage, the first person he ran into was just who he was looking for: Filch.

"Filch!" Snape hissed. "There has been a student out of bed, roaming the castle…down here in the dungeons near my quarters. Where have you been?"

Filch gaped at the Potions Professor, momentarily taken aback.

"I…I've been making regular rounds, Professor." He stammered, backing away as he cradled Mrs. Norris protectively. "I haven't seen a student all night long, Sir. Not a one, Sir."

"Ob…vi…ous…ly." Severus growled, grinding each syllable of the word between his teeth in impotent fury. With a contemptuous sneer, he turned and walked briskly away, his black robes billowing out behind him as he continued to grumble. Filch watched him go until he vanished around a corner, and then blew out a sigh of relief.

"All's well now, Mrs. Norris." Filch cackled, stroking her fur. "Going to be plenty of detentions today, I wager. It's going to be a great day, by Merlin."

ooOoo

February 11, 1995~

Potions classes had been awful lately for her. Marie glanced nervously at the door near the front of the classroom, on the right, and tried to put out of her mind where it led to. She hadn't been to his bed recently that she knew of. One night she'd even bound her own feet and hands with a charm she'd found, one that would expire at dawn. When she woke up, she was standing at the top of the spiral staircase of Ravenclaw tower, one hand on the door knocker. She was glad that she hadn't botched the riddle that morning, as her fellow students were starting to stir, and thankfully no one was in the common room as she ran for her chamber.

Just thinking about where she might have been that night made her feel nauseous.

This morning, she'd been making her bed when she found a stray hair on her pillow. Half the length of hers, but jet black. She'd promptly vanished it before any of the other three girls that she shared a common bedroom with could see it.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that half a piece of buttered toast and a cup of tea were not adequate to last until lunch. Pressing her hand to her tummy, she sighed, hoping that she would be able to last until lunchtime. Picking up her potions textbook, she began to pack her book bag to head back to the dormitory.

Her thoughts were interrupted when 4th year Luna Lovegood walked up to her.

"Are you sure you feel alright?" The younger witch asked. "You're looking rather pale today."

"I'm fine, Luna." Marie sighed as she finished putting her potions book and kit in her bag. "I…it's just a cold or something. Nothing to worry about, really."

The younger Ravenclaw put her hand up to Marie's forehead, her touch cool and gentle on the older girl's brow. Marie pulled her head away, annoyed.

"Stop it." She sighed irritably. "I just need to go see Madame Pomphrey and get some Pepper-Up Potion, that's all."

"I'm just worried about you, Marie." Luna said solemnly. "You seem so tired lately, and you've had this fever…or whatever it is…for the last three weeks. I think maybe you should…"

"…leave my classroom?" Professor Snape sneered, looming over them. "What a grand idea. Seeing as you two have been loitering around for a good fifteen minutes after class was over, it is probably best that you be on your way."

Abruptly, Marie spun to face him, her blue eyes flashing with anger.

"How dare you!" She snapped furiously. "We are doing no harm, Professor Snape! You don't need to be so rude! Why are you always so hateful? Are you so miserable that you have to take it out on other people, you can't bear seeing them be happy?"

Shocked, Snape actually backed up a few steps in the face of the wrath of the petite blond student, unable to speak. When he backed into a desk and could retreat no further, Marie began to jab her finger into his chest to add emphasis as she continued to scorch his ears with rapid-fire English interspersed with French.

"Class is over, in case you didn't notice, you miserable connard!" She growled, jabbing him over and over with a slender finger. "You didn't even give us much of a chance to leave!"

"Miss Delacour, I…" Snape began, attempting to assert some sort of control.

"Ta gueule!" She shrieked angrily, her nose nearly touching his, blue sparks of wild magic dancing around her hair. "Ta gueule, fils de pute! Imbecile! J'ai eu assez de cela! Va te faire foutre, trouduc!"

Halting to catch her breath, Marie blinked, her chest heaving as she felt her feet make contact with the floor. Her anger seemed to dissipate like smoke as she gradually became aware of her surroundings.

I levitated just then? Wandlessly?! She thought, trembling as she glanced around her.

Luna was staring at her in wide-eyed horror, her mouth open, as if Marie had suddenly grown another head. Snape had turned much paler than usual, with a shocked expression on his face as he leaned against the desk. The silence in the empty potions classroom seemed deafening.

Oh, no…Marie thought uneasily, a sense of impending doom welling up inside her as she watched Professor Snape put his hands on the desk and push himself up, his expression now turning grim.

He understands French…

Slowly, Snape's color returned, as his face reddened a bit, his lips compressing into a thin line. He drew himself up to his full height, towering over the two hapless Ravenclaws as he glowered at them with eyes that showed pure fury.

"Miss…Delacour." He hissed, his black eyes glittering with anger. "While I am strongly tempted…to wash your filthy mouth out with soap, I believe that five days' worth of detention will do, along with fifty points taken from your house for your disrespectful behavior toward staff. You will report to me tomorrow evening, after supper. Perhaps scrubbing some cauldrons by hand, the Muggle way, will teach you to mind…your…tongue."

ooOoo

After gathering their books, the two Ravenclaws made their way through the dungeons toward their dormitory, neither uttering a word until they reached the Ravenclaw common room. Thankfully, there was no one there, most all of their housemates already having left for supper in the Great Hall. Marie dropped her book bag carelessly on the floor of her room and collapsed face down on her bed with a strangled groan, covering her head up with her pillow.

I want to crawl in a hole and just die. Fifty points, she sighed miserably. I cost my house fifty points, and now I have to spend five evenings scrubbing cauldrons, and probably worse, for the professor I despise the most. Can my life get any worse than this?

Hearing a soft footstep approaching, she rolled over and sat up to see Luna standing in her doorway. The younger student eyed her soberly.

"Luna, I'm sorry." Marie said contritely, tears welling up in her eyes. "I shouldn't have…"

The serious expression on Luna's face shifted to a broad grin, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth as she shook her head.

"No! Don't even say it!" Luna smiled, holding up one hand. "Marie, you were awesome!"

"I cursed out a Professor!" Marie blurted out, surprised by the younger witch's praise. "I cost our house points in the cup! And now I have to spend five evenings, including part of a weekend, doing detention with him!"

A dreadful thought struck her at that moment, her blue eyes widening in horror.

"Oh, Merlin…what if he writes to my parents?" She wailed, holding her head with both hands as if to keep the thought away. "Oh, gods…I am so screwed now. Papa will be furious with me!"

Luna laughed, coming over to sit down next to Marie, putting a comforting hand on her housemate's shoulder.

"You're a rock star, Marie!" She said, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You stood up to Snape, the most feared professor here, and backed him down! Well…maybe not so much backed him down, maybe, but you certainly told him off! Wait until the other students hear about this!"

ooOoo

As Luna predicted, Marie was indeed quite the celebrity at the supper table that night. Surrounded by a crowd of students from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, as well as her fellow Ravenclaws, she was forced to tell and re-tell what had transpired between her and Snape until she was nearly hoarse from telling the tale. Luna sat beside her, adding details if Marie missed any, and vouching for the truthfulness of her story. Marie avoided looking toward the Slytherin table.

After a while, she began to feel a cold pressure, a sensation of unease, which she couldn't understand nor shrug off. Feeling rather uncomfortable, Marie glanced over at the staff table.

Snape was intently staring at her, his black eyes unreadable. As a chill went down her spine, she swallowed nervously, forcing herself to smile cheerfully.

I'm sorry, Professor, she thought, wishing she could apologize, that she could take back what she'd said to him. I'm so sorry that I lost my temper, Professor Snape.

For a moment, he blinked, then looked away, appearing somewhat confused. Swiftly recovering his composure, he now glared at her more fiercely than ever. As she watched, Snape crumpled up his cloth napkin, dropping it on the plate of untouched food before him, then rose and stalked out of the Great Hall. He pointedly did not look in her direction as he passed the Ravenclaw table, even though the conversation hushed when he came near.

Once he had left the room, the discussion at the table resumed, more boisterous than before. However, now Marie was not participating, having suddenly lost her appetite as she stared after Professor Snape.

Now she just felt guilty, her cheeks burning with shame.

ooOoo

The next evening after supper, she reluctantly made her way to the dungeons. Her mind was racing. Should she apologize to Snape? Or would that just make matters worse?

"Merlin, what a mess." She sighed softly to herself, continuing to trudge down the hall. "Everything I do just seems to make things worse."

Finally, she stood before the door to the Potions classroom. Screwing up her courage, she knocked on the door.

"Enter." Snape's voice said from within.

Marie opened the door and walked into the classroom, biting her lip as she struggled to keep herself calm. Snape was standing behind his desk, his arms crossed across his chest. Silently he watched as she approached, waiting until she stopped facing him across the oak surface. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, biting her lip as she waited for him to speak.

"I expect you have something to say." He said softly.

"Yes, I wanted to …"

"Save your breath." Snape said, a cold edge to his voice. "No apology is required, necessary, or believable. I know full well how many of the students feel about me. What makes you think I care one whit about their opinion of me?"

"Sir, I…"

"Silence." He said sharply, turning away from her toward the blackboard. With a wave of his hand, a box of chalk floated over to the desk, landing with a soft thump in front of Marie.

"For the first evening of your detention, Miss Delacour," Snape said, a malevolent gleam in his eye, "You will write lines for me on this blackboard."

With a sigh of resignation, Marie picked up a piece of chalk and went to the board.

"What do you wish me to write, Sir?" She asked, halfway dreading the answer.

Snape sat down behind his desk, picking up his quill and smoothing the feather slowly between slender fingers. A bitter smile slowly came to his face.

"Everything that you said yesterday to me." He said in a low, silky voice. "You will write it, word for word, in French, English, and Latin. You will stop…"

He turned to the box of chalk, took out his wand, and waved it. The box tripled in size, as did the chalkboard.

"…you will stop when you run out of chalk." He smirked. "Now, begin."

With a half-strangled groan, Marie turned to the board and began to write.

ooOoo

"Professor Snape?"

He glanced up, halfway startled, as he'd been engrossed in his book. Marie was standing in front of his desk, her robes, face, and hands white with chalk dust.

"Yes, Miss Delacour?" He sighed irritably, marking his place and setting his book down.

"I'm finished, sir." She said wearily, stifling a yawn. "The box is empty."

He picked it up, squinting into it. Nothing but chalk dust remained.

"So it is." He said sourly. "Well, that completes your detention this evening. You will report to me for your next task tomorrow evening."

"Yes, Sir. May I say something, Professor Snape?"

"No, you may not. Clean yourself up and leave." He snapped, ready to have her gone.

"Please, Sir?" She asked, clasping her hands in front of herself nervously.

"I am not going to waive the next four evenings of detention, Miss Delacour."

"I wasn't going to ask you to do that, Professor." Marie said, swallowing nervously. "I wanted to ask you to return the house points, Sir."

"And why should I do that, Miss Delacour?"

"Because the offense was mine, not that of my house."

"All members of a house are expected to police their fellow house members. I will not return the points."

"Yes, Sir." Marie sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Is there something else you wanted?" Snape asked, handing her a hall pass allowing her to return to her dormitory.

She started to speak, and then thought better of it.

"No, Sir." Marie said, turning toward the door. "Good night, Sir."

"Good night, Miss Delacour."

Once the heavy oak door of the classroom closed behind her, Snape rose from his desk. Going to the door, he took out his wand and placed the usual wards on the door, part of his multi-layered defenses that allowed him to have some sleep at night.

Time for some more reading, and perhaps some firewhiskey, he mused, turning back to the classroom. As he walked toward his quarters, he made a mental note to ask his house elf to clean the blackboard and return it to its normal size. He was halfway to the door to his quarters when he glanced at the board, and something made him stop, frowning.

For a long time, he examined the board, moving back and forth to vary the distance to make sure he wasn't just seeing things.

The spaces between the words, he finally realized, stunned by what he was seeing. Steganography…I've never seen it like this.

At the correct distance, one could clearly read, over and over:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the board. Pulling his wand out, he vanished it, his hand fairly trembling with anger.

So, she thinks she is being clever? He fumed, putting away his wand after reducing the blackboard to its normal size.

We will address this tomorrow evening. I won't allow a student to make a fool of me.

ooOoo

The next day, in Potions class, Marie couldn't help but nervously glance at the board. When she took her eyes away from it, she realized that Snape was watching her, his eyes sharp and unfriendly. She swallowed nervously and bent over her cauldron, mincing some valerian root into precise quarter inch cubes with her silver knife.

They were making blood-replenishment potion. It wasn't the first time, but Snape had set a timer, and their assignment was to brew a useful potion within the time limit.

She risked another glance at the board, only to look right into the eyes of Snape. He had somehow moved from the front of the room to stand right by her table without her even realizing it.

"Looking for…something, Miss Delacour?" He said softly, just a hint of malice in his eyes.

"Um…no, Sir." She replied, her voice barely audible. "I just was—OUCH!"

Her knife had sliced her finger nearly to the bone, and blood was dribbling all over the table. Dropping the knife, she grabbed a scrap of parchment and pressed it to the wound, the blood rapidly staining it as she sucked in her breath at the pain. She felt lightheaded and a bit sick.

"Foolish girl!" Snape sighed, taking out his wand and reaching down to grasp her hand. He began a wand motion, then stopped, his expression shifting from bored disgust to surprise as he stared at her finger.

The wound had stopped bleeding, and was rapidly mending itself.

He glanced back up at Marie. She was pale as a ghost, her blue eyes widening as she looked at him, her lips parted slightly.

"Class is dismissed." Snape said curtly, glaring around him. "Clean up your cauldrons and leave. We will attempt this assignment again tomorrow."

Turning back to Marie, he examined the freshly healed scar on her finger, frowning. Conjuring a flannel with his wand, he wrapped it around her hand, and then put his wand away.

"Come, Miss Delacour." Snape said softly, almost to himself. "We'd better go have Madam Pomphrey look at this cut."

"But Sir, what about…"

"Now, Miss Delacour." He said sharply, guiding her toward the door, his hand grasping her firmly by the elbow.

ooOoo

Severus had canceled Marie's evening detention, and now he sat slumped in a chair in the Hospital wing, in Poppy's office. The Medi-witch had examined Marie and found nothing unusual—the wound was completely healed, after all—so she had released her to go back to her room after collecting her books from the Potions classroom. Now Poppy sat at her desk, looking over at Severus with worried eyes as he sat next to the Headmaster.

"You cast no spell, no charm?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"No." Snape said, shaking his head as folded his arms. "I did nothing. I barely touched her before the bleeding stopped. I barely got my wand out before it was knitting back together."

"Well, don't worry overmuch about it, Severus." The Headmaster sighed. "I'm sure it was nothing."

"If you don't mind, Headmaster, Poppy," Snape said, rising from his chair, "I believe I'll be going. I…have some essays to grade before supper."

Dumbledore sat quietly in the office with Poppy for several minutes, and then sighed.

"I know you have something to say." He said, eyeing the Medi-witch soberly. "Out with it, then."

"You're killing him, Albus." Poppy said softly. "He can't keep going like this."

"Yet he must. He is the only option I have."

"Is that how you think of him?" She snapped, glaring across the desk at the Headmaster. "An 'option'? Just one more card in your deck? He's only human, Albus."

"Poppy, please." Dumbledore sighed. "You know what we're up against if Tom returns. Severus is our only chance to gain information on his plans."

"I will not stand idly by and allow you to abuse that boy. It's not right. Did you notice how badly his hands were shaking?"

"He's hardly a boy, Poppy."

"He was when you sided with those boys from Gryffindor house against him, the night they set him up to meet Lupin in the Shrieking Shack!" She retorted hotly, glaring at him. "'A bit of fun gone awry', you said that night. I didn't think it was 'a bit of fun', not while I was healing his wounds. Thank Merlin he wasn't bitten!"

"I deeply regret doing that, I do." Dumbledore sighed. "But one can't change the past."

"Then treat him better, Albus. He deserves it."

ooOoo

February 17, 1995, 11:20 p.m. ~

With a labored sigh, Marie climbed out of the last of the great cauldrons. She checked again to make sure the interior was bright and clean, and then took her wand out to float it over to where it was to be stored.

I am so exhausted, she thought as she watched the cauldron rise from the stone floor and slowly begin to move toward the other cauldrons. With a muted clunk, it came to rest on the huge shelf where it was stored. Putting her wand away, she trudged toward the potions classroom, stifling a yawn.

Thirty-three cauldrons I scrubbed out without magic, she mused as she made her way across the classroom. That really wasn't much fun at all. I think my blisters have blisters now.

Professor Snape was seated at his desk, his quill scratching away at the essay before him. Marie slowly walked up to the desk, swaying slightly. He continued to bend over the essay, his long black hair nearly hiding his face as he noted another deficiency in red ink.

Charonge, she thought sullenly as she watched him grade the essay. I bet he gets his thrills from cutting down students, the miserable git.

"Professor?" She said, stifling another yawn.

"Yes?" Snape said, not bothering to look up.

"I'm finished, Sir."

He sat up, conjuring a scrap of cloth to wipe the nib of his quill, which he did with painstaking care, and very slowly, as if he wanted to draw out her suffering just a bit longer. When he was finally satisfied, he vanished the ink-stained cloth, then carefully laid his quill aside and capped his inkwell. Only then did he bother to look up at the weary Ravenclaw standing before his desk.

"So you are." Snape said coldly, and then rose from his chair. "I'd better check your work, to make sure it is satisfactory. Here is your wand back. I suggest that you clean yourself up, you look like a chimney sweep."

With that he handed her wand to her and walked to the storeroom where the cauldrons were. Marie slowly counted to ten, struggling to rein in her temper, lest she hex him while his back was to her. Just before he entered the storeroom, she settled for raising an unsteady hand to her chin and flicking her fingers toward his back to show her contempt for him.

With a frustrated sigh, she conjured a small mirror and set it to floating before her, grimacing at her appearance. She carefully used scorgify to remove most of the soot and oily residues from her hands and face; her uniform was nearly ruined and would have to be thrown away. She wearily folded up her robes and tucked them into her book bag.

No point in putting my robes on. They'll just get dirty too, she fumed silently as she waited impatiently for him to dismiss her.

After what seemed to be an interminable wait, he finally came back into the potions classroom. Walking over to her, he took out his wand.

"Tut-tut, Miss Delacour." He smirked. "I thought you knew the Scorgify spell better than that. Hold still."

With a graceful wand motion and some softly murmured Latin, the stains vanished from her uniform, his magic tingling on her skin. To her amazement, it was restored to like-new condition, feeling as if it had been freshly laundered. She was so utterly shocked that she felt light-headed, blinking her eyes in surprise when Professor Snape's expression shifted from disdainful sneer to concern as he leaned closer to peer down at her.

"What?" She mumbled, looking up at him. The lightheaded feeling was nearly gone, and the weariness was fading rapidly.

"I said, are you alright, Miss Delacour?" Snape asked, gently taking her by the elbow and guiding her to sit on a stool. "You look rather pale, and I've had to repeat myself several times in the last few minutes. It's almost midnight. Do I need to escort you personally to your dormitory?"

"I…I think so, Sir." Marie replied hesitantly. "I…still feel a bit unsteady."

"We can leave as soon as you feel well, then." He sighed. "When I took your pulse, it was rather rapid and thready. I think we will go see Poppy, instead."

ooOoo

An hour later, in the Hospital Wing, Poppy put her wand away, shaking her head.

"Nothing, Severus." She said, taking Marie's wrist to take her pulse yet again. "Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps her blood sugar got too low while she was serving her detention."

"Nonsense, Poppy." Snape said quietly from the doorway. "She had supper before her detention."

"It wasn't that, Madam Pomphrey." Marie nodded. "I had a good supper beforehand."

"Is there any history of diabetes in your family, by chance?" Poppy asked, picking up her clipboard to jot down a few notes with her quill.

"Nothing like that, Ma'am." She answered, shaking her head.

Poppy finished, then wiped her quill off and put it away.

"Well, just to be safe, I'd like to keep you here in the Hospital Wing tonight." She said, hanging the clipboard on a hook at the foot of the bed. "Just for observation, dear."

"But I feel fine now, really I do!" Marie protested. "I feel great!"

"Sorry, dear." Poppy said soberly. "I don't want to risk it, not after the problems you've been having lately."

ooOoo

March 8, 1995, approximately 4 a.m. ~

He sighed deeply, relaxing and instinctively moving closer to the warm body behind him in the bed, the warm hand on his chest pulling him closer, the faintest tickle of breath on his ear…the rather pleasant sensation of soft breasts pressing more firmly against his back-

Breasts?! His eyes flew open in alarm.

In an instant, Severus Snape moved from light dozing to full awareness, sitting up in his bed and snatching the covers back.

"Lumos!" He snapped, lighting every candle in the room at once with a flick of his slender fingers.

Cowering in his bed, clutching her flannel nightgown to her chest, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, was sixth-year Ravenclaw student Marie Delacour. She looked up at him with terror in her blue eyes, trembling violently.

So that's where the blonde hair has been coming from, he thought as he glared down at her.

With a muttered oath, he accio'd his dark green flannel robe and put it on, tying the sash securely with shaking hands. He looked away from her for a moment, struggling to calm himself. Picking up his wand from the nightstand, he transfigured a flannel into a white bathrobe.

"Put this on." He snapped, tossing it to her as he looked elsewhere. "You are quite indecent."

"Th-thank you, Sir." She whispered faintly, struggling to put the robe on as she trembled before him.

"Well, Miss Delacour?" Snape hissed furiously, struggling to hold his temper in check. "I trust you have a perfectly good reason that you are in my bed, all the way down here in the dungeons, and not in your bed up in Ravenclaw tower…where you are supposed to be at this hour. I await said explanation with eager anticipation. But, then again, perhaps we should wait until I…summon Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm sure he'd like to hear it, as well. Don't you agree?"

By this time, Marie's face had drained of all color. For a moment, her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Snape thought she looked rather like a beached goldfish, gasping for water.

"Well? Out with it, girl!" He snapped impatiently, picking up his wand and using a spell to stoke the fire. Reaching up to the mantel, he took a handful of floo powder, preparing to toss it into the flames.

"Wait! Professor Snape, please!" She pleaded, holding out a shaky hand to stop him as she scrambled out of the bed to stand behind him. "I'll be expelled! You mustn't-"

"I mustn't?" He sneered, his voice mocking hers. "I mustn't? How…utterly amusing. Perhaps, Miss Delacour, you should have considered that possible outcome before breaking into my private quarters. I will have you expelled for this little prank of yours, I promise you that. You have mocked me quite enough."

"I wasn't—"

He tossed the powder into the fire, the flames turning green almost instantly.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." He said, crossing his arms.

After a long moment, the greenish face of the headmaster appeared.

"Severus, my boy." Dumbledore smiled, "It's rather late. Are you alright?"

"Headmaster, it appears that I have caught a student out of bed." Snape said coolly, stepping aside so that Dumbledore could see Marie cowering behind him.

The Headmaster's blue eyes widened behind his spectacles in surprise.

"Oh, dear." Albus frowned, blinking. "I…oh, my. Bring her to my office, Severus."

"Immediately, Headmaster." He nodded, smirking slightly.

ooOoo

Marie sat on the couch near the fireplace in the Headmaster's office, shivering in spite of the warm flannel robe that had been conjured for her, to put on over the terrycloth robe she already wore. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, considering what she'd just told them, while Snape leaned against the mantle of the fireplace, a sour expression on his face now.

"Miss Delacour…" Dumbledore said quietly, leaning forward in his chair, "…why have you not talked to someone about this…problem of yours? Your head of house, Poppy, or myself, even? We can't help you if we don't know you have a problem, dear."

"I…I was embarrassed, sir." She said, with a nervous glance at Professor Snape. "It was…most disturbing, finding myself in…Professor Snape's bed. I was terrified that I'd be caught…every time I woke up in his…his…um…"

Marie blushed deeply, unable to continue as she studied the ornate rug. Dumbledore sat stunned, his mouth agape in shock; Snape looked as if he might have a stroke at any moment. She felt like she wanted to crawl into a hole, anything to get away, to escape the dark eyes that now bored relentlessly into her.

"Every time?" Snape finally managed to choke out, his face livid with rage, leaning over the back of the couch to glare down at her. Marie cringed, pulling away from him. He was clutching the back of the couch tightly, as if to hold himself up, trembling violently with anger.

"You mean it has happened before tonight?" He snapped, incredulous. "And more than once?! Just how many times have you been in my bed, girl?"

Hesitantly, Marie nodded, fighting to quell her trembling.

"I…I think this was," She said softly, her voice barely audible, "The eighth…no, the twelfth time it's happened…maybe…I think…" Her voice trailed off to nothing as she cringed at the expression on Professor Snape's face.

"Twelve times…!" He rasped, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at her.

"I think so, Sir." Marie said softly, blushing even more. "There have been other times…when I…when I could tell I'd been up and about…but I'm not sure if I…you know, um…went to your…quarters."

"You have been in my quarters, in my bed, twelve times…that you are sure of…" Snape hissed, anger flaring anew in his dark eyes. Marie flinched, shrinking away from him once again.

"Please, Severus." Dumbledore said, holding up his hand. "Sit down, please. You're frightening Miss Delacour, and that isn't helping matters at all. You need to calm down."

Giving her a withering glare, Snape went to the farthest armchair from her and sat down, his face much paler than usual. Marie carefully avoided looking in his direction, choosing instead to examine the pink bunny slippers that the Headmaster had thoughtfully conjured to help keep her bare feet warm.

Dumbledore turned back to Marie, giving her a comforting smile.

"Did you ever have problems with sleepwalking before now, dear?" He asked gently. "Perhaps as a child, before or after your magic manifested?"

Snape made a rude noise, glaring over at the Headmaster, who shot him an admonishing look over his glasses.

"I've never heard of a sleepwalker doing magic, Headmaster." Severus scoffed. "My room is warded at night, as part of the…normal precautions I take. It would be impossible for a student, even a gifted one, to break in while awake. I rather doubt that Miss Delacour is up to the task. She didn't even have her wand with her."

"Yet it has happened, Severus." Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow at Snape. "And not once, but several times, according to Miss Delacour. Perhaps you might need to check your wards more carefully. It is possible, since she has been to your quarters more than once, that they have attuned themselves to her magical signature by accident."

"Well, dear?" He asked Marie again. "Do you know if you have ever been a sleepwalker?"

"I…I don't think so, sir." She said, pulling the robe tighter around herself. "At least, my parents never have mentioned anything about me sleepwalking, even when I was younger."

"Well, I think you should go see Poppy in the morning, dear. Just to have her check you over, make sure you're alright. You really look like you don't feel well. I'll write you a note to excuse you from your classes for a few days, until you're over this."

Snape suddenly looked rather uncomfortable, as if he had suddenly developed indigestion.

"Headmaster, in just the past few months, this student has had fourteen instances in my classroom where I have had to take points or give her detention, or both. She is rude, ill-mannered, and a troublemaker the likes of which I have not seen in many years. Therefore, I demand-"

"No, Severus." The Headmaster said firmly, "She will not be expelled, not until I investigate this matter further and determine why this has happened."

"Headmaster," Snape said uneasily, "you know as well as I that I cannot have something like this happen when I am…performing some of my 'other duties'."

"Severus! Enough!" Dumbledore snapped angrily, shocking Marie. "We will not be discussing that with a student present."

With a disgruntled huff, Snape leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and glaring out the window into the night.

Picking up a quill, the Headmaster wrote out a hall pass, which he handed to Marie, along with a large bar of Medi-chocolate.

"Eat this right away, my dear." He smiled gently. "You need to keep your strength up. Please, try not to misbehave anymore, and go see Poppy in the morning."

As the door to the Headmaster's office closed behind her, she paused on the landing for a moment. From the muffled shouting she could hear through the door, it was fairly obvious that Dumbledore and Snape were having it out about whatever it was that shouldn't be discussed in front of students. Swallowing nervously, Marie made her way down the stairs tightly clutching her hall pass in trembling hands. She certainly didn't want to get in any more trouble tonight, and being caught eavesdropping seemed likely to lead to that very thing.

'Other duties'? She wondered as she carefully made her way down the spiral staircase. What is Snape doing for the Headmaster?

ooOoo

"Severus, I'm disappointed in you." Dumbledore said softly as soon as the girl had left. Picking up his wand, he made a few intricate motions, mumbling a bit in Latin; now any eavesdroppers would only hear arguing, with the words being unintelligible.

"I do not care." Snape hissed angrily, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "I am not involved with a student. You know me better than that, Albus."

"I did not think for a moment that you were, Severus. While most would frown on such a thing, you need some means to relieve your stress. The girl is of legal age, you know. She could be of great comfort to you—"

Snape abruptly got up with a sharp oath, crossing the room to a cabinet. Retrieving a glass, he began poking through bottles of liquor, muttering under his breath. Dumbledore watched the younger wizard silently, a pained expression on his face.

"The firewhiskey is toward the back, to the left side." Dumbledore said with a sigh of resignation.

Snape carried the glass and bottle of firewhiskey back to his chair, setting the glass on the table next to the chair and uncorking the bottle. With a trembling hand, he tried to pour some in the glass, succeeding mainly in slopping some of the amber liquor on the table and floor. With a muttered curse, he pulled out his wand, vanishing the spilled firewhiskey.

"Albus, I am NOT involved with a student!" The younger wizard hissed angrily, glaring at him as he picked up the bottle again. "Some wizards might stoop to such a thing, but I do not. Such a thing would be most unethical—"

"Allow me, Severus." The Headmaster said, rising to walk over to Snape and taking the firewhiskey from his shaking hands. He poured three fingers into the glass and corked the bottle, then sent it back to the liquor cabinet with a negligent wave of his hand. Shaking his head disapprovingly at the younger wizard, he went back to his chair and sat down.

"I don't believe you need to drink much more than that, Severus." He said sternly. "I need you sober."

"I…really don't need this right now." Snape said, his voice unsteady. "Not right now. I…have enough to deal with. I don't know exactly what is going on yet, but someone is manipulating the tournament. I'm sure of it now. So far I've been lucky, I've been able to keep Harry from being hurt, but it has been difficult at times."

"Yes, but who might be behind it?" Asked the Headmaster. "Karkaroff?"

"He would seem be a likely suspect, but I have not been able to find anything to implicate him. No, it is someone else, and they are very good at covering their tracks."

"Any clues at all as to who it might be?"

"No." Snape sighed. "Can you talk to that bloody lunatic Moody, somehow get him off my back? The paranoid old fool watches me constantly. I swear, I'm going to hex him if he doesn't back off."

"Just do your best to protect Harry, Severus."

Snape drained the glass of firewhiskey, closing his eyes as the liquor burned its way down his throat.

"I will, Headmaster. I keep my promises."

Snape placed the empty glass on the table, rose from his chair, and left.

Dumbledore gave a sigh of exasperation, shaking his head.

ooOoo

The days slowly dragged by, with Marie avoiding Snape as much as she could, sitting at the rear of the classroom in Advanced Potions while he stolidly ignored her. Luna was kind enough to turn in her written assignments for her, and Snape didn't seem to mind it. If she happened to see him in the hallway, she would change her path to avoid him, and when it was impossible to reach her destination without passing by him she kept her eyes on the floor to avoid notice.

The dreams were worse than ever now.

She'd taken to binding herself hand and foot with a charm that expired at six in the morning, and had even gotten it to work correctly, most of the time. A few times she'd awakened in the hallway outside the Ravenclaw dormitory, once in the nude, which distressed her greatly. Especially when she'd only just barely made it through the common room before three boys came in from their dormitory.

It's as if this curse—and that's what it is, a curse—is angry with me, she had thought as she hurriedly dressed in her uniform and donned her robes for the day in her room.

"Are you coming?" Luna asked, poking her head in the door. "You won't have time to eat breakfast if you don't hurry up."

"I…I'm not really hungry, Luna." Marie said nervously. "Thanks anyway."

"At least get a house elf to bring you some tea and toast. Have them put some clover honey in it; it will help calm down your tummy. That's what my daddy always said."

"I will. Thank you."

On her way to first period class, she had the misfortune of bumping into Snape as she rounded a corner, dropping her bag and spilling books, parchments, and everything else all over the floor of the hallway. Blue eyes widening with terror, she shrank back from him.

"Watch where you're—" He hissed irritably, turning toward her. Whatever he was about to say, he bit it off once he recognized her, turning in a swirl of black robes and angrily stalking off. With a sigh of part relief, part dismay, she knelt and gathered her things, putting them back in her bag.

Day after day, it went on much like this, her nerves fraying more with each day's passing.

Avoiding him at all costs, trying to get by on what fitful sleep she could get, terrified that she would wake in his bed yet again. What little free time she could spare was spent in the library, reading through ancient tomes for something—anything that might give her some relief.

Alongside all of this, the constant, nagging, undeniable, undefinable need that she miserably tried to ignore.

ooOoo

April 2, 1995~

"This is outrageous! Headmaster, I would rather resign than do such a thing! If this were to become public, my career would be ruined!"

"Severus, calm down." Headmaster Dumbledore said, holding up his hands. "It's only temporary. It appears to be the only thing that can be done to help her while Poppy and Professors Flitwick and Sprout work on a cure."

"Have you forgotten that I am the Potions Master at this school?" He growled, glaring at each of them in turn.

"Yes, and you will be making the antidote," Dumbledore said, "Our goal here is to expedite some sort of potion to relieve the pain and cramping for Marie, if not a cure. Professor Flitwick will be researching the effects of the potion on Marie with Poppy, and Professor Sprout will be handling the obtaining of the necessary ingredients. When the time comes, you'll be handling the brewing, as well as collaborating with them on the composition. This needs to be resolved quickly, and cooperation will be essential. Don't you agree?"

Snape was pacing in front of the fireplace in the Headmaster's office, a vein pulsing in his temple as he glared around the room. The Headmaster sat behind his desk, one hand toying with his beard, while Professor Flitwick stood next to him. Marie Delacour sat shivering and wrapped up in a blanket next to Poppy, jumping a bit as the Medi-Witch gently put a comforting arm around her.

"Severus, sit down, for Merlin's sake!" Poppy said angrily. "You're upsetting my patient! Her condition is rather delicate right now."

Severus glared daggers at the Medi-Witch, but grudgingly sat down in the armchair farthest from the couch. He avoided looking at Marie entirely, folding his arms across his chest and stolidly ignoring her; Marie kept her eyes on the floor, swaying between wakefulness and weariness. She hadn't slept for three days, and had begun to think she was hallucinating at times. Dark circles under her eyes, her hair unkempt, and a rapid loss of weight were silent testimony that she was gravely ill.

"Severus, no one likes this situation, I assure you." Dumbledore said gently. "As Poppy and Professor Flitwick have explained, the potion that was put into Miss Delacour's pumpkin juice did not have the expected results. The culprit, Miss Eugenia Hargrove has been punished, but the damage has been done, I fear."

"I wish it would have worked." Marie whispered bitterly, half to herself, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I could live with being ugly, but this…"

"There, there, dear." Poppy said gently. "It'll all be right soon. We're working on reversing this; we'll put things right as soon as we can. It's not your fault."

"What do you found so far from examining the potion that was left in the vial," Dumbledore asked, "That was recovered from Miss Hargrove's room?"

Snape pursed his lips grimly, gathering his thoughts for a moment.

"Miss Hargrove," he said, just a hint of a sneer in his voice, "attempted to make the Taeterrima potion, which, as we know by now, has the effect of rendering the person who consumes it hideously ugly for a period of approximately seven days…and botched it so completely I should fail her in Potions for it on general principle. The potion was contaminated with several ingredients not required for its making, not the least of which was kneazle dandruff, harpy toenail clippings, and a single human hair. She relied on a wand to control the temperature, as well as monitor the stirring, which is not recommended when making this potion. An utterly lazy and incompetent, half-arsed attempt to make a potion far beyond her capabilities as a potion maker."

Poppy frowned, shaking her head in disgust.

"Why would she do such a thing?" She asked, looking at Professor Flitwick. "And to a member of her own house, to boot?"

"Jealousy." Flitwick sighed. "Miss Hargrove was angry that her boyfriend, William Evans, seemed to pay more attention to Miss Delacour than herself. She made the potion to try to teach Miss Delacour a lesson, by turning her into an ugly hag."

"So, why did it not work as intended?" Poppy asked, glancing at Snape. "She's still just as lovely as before she took the potion."

"I have no idea, Poppy." Severus said coldly. "As I said, Miss Hargrove made a complete botch of the potion, and administered it without heed for the effects. She showed extremely poor judgment and a complete disregard for the safety of a fellow student, behavior that borders on being criminal. That's why I recommended that she be expelled, based on the fact that Taeterrima is on the list of potions forbidden to students, both to make it and to possess it."

Craning his neck to look up at Snape, Flitwick hesitated for a moment, as if he were carefully considering the wisdom of his next words.

"Severus," He said, hooking his thumb in his vest pocket near his wand, "Were you able to determine the origin of the human hair?"

"Of course." Snape said acidly. "It was…one of mine. Satisfied? It could have just as easily been one of yours, Filus. Or Hagrid's, or the Headmasters, or…"

"Severus, please." Dumbledore said sternly, with a brief glance at Marie. "We're trying to make the best of a bad situation, to resolve a problem. You don't need to be so difficult."

Snape merely glowered at the Headmaster for a moment, and then turned to glare at the Medi-witch.

"So what you are saying, Poppy," Severus hissed darkly, "is that I must allow a student, a sixteen year old girl, to sleep in my bed with me…because she has to touch me. I'm sure that the Board of Regents, as well as the Ministry, would be quite delighted to hear of this. Never mind what the student's parents might think of it. I may as well start packing to move to Siberia now, before the lynch mobs arrive at the gates of Hogwarts."

Snape turned toward Dumbledore, crossing his arms and raising one eyebrow.

"Oh, and by the way, have you notified her parents as to what has happened?" He sneered, glaring at the Headmaster. "If I were her father, I would most certainly want to know about it. Especially if you were to force my daughter to sleep with a former Death Eater-"

"That will be quite enough, Severus!" Dumbledore boomed, glaring up at the Potions Master. "Not another word!"

Marie cringed, with Poppy hugging her close to comfort her.

"That's what it amounts to, isn't it?" Snape said softly, his voice flat and dead, his eyes locked with Dumbledore's. "As usual…I have no choice whatsoever in the matter."

Poppy hesitated for a moment, glancing at Dumbledore, who was watching Severus closely. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room, until Poppy cleared her throat, interrupting the silent confrontation.

"Yes, Severus." She frowned, looking at Snape. "She needs some contact, um…skin on skin with you, to have any relief. It appears that that may be the only option for her, at least until we can counteract the potion in some way."

"Can't we just let it wear off?" Professor Flitwick asked. "Surely, the effects of the potion should wear off with time."

"No." Poppy replied. "It…for some reason, the effects do not seem to be diminishing, but rather, intensifying with each day. This potion, the effects are not like a typical potion at all. It's as if-"

"As if it has altered her permanently in some way." Severus said sourly. "Am I correct, Poppy?"

"Yes. It's almost like a curse."

"So, she must touch me, for at least four to six hours, her skin," He paused to grimace, "touching mine, every twenty-four hours."

"Yes. I already explained that." Poppy said irritably, anger flashing in her eyes. "You were there for our…tests, Severus. You saw how lack of contact affected her; she does alright for twelve to sixteen hours, but then her symptoms become unbearable. You couldn't possibly wish that on your worst enemy, let alone a student!"

Marie shivered slightly, under the wool blanket that was wrapped around her, her eyes downcast.

Snape gave Dumbledore a sullen look, slouching in his chair a bit, and then looked directly at Marie.

"I suppose," He said, addressing her directly, "this gives you a good example of why I don't allow the use of wands in my classroom. Petty little spats like this between girls unworthy of the title 'witch'."

She refused to meet his gaze, closing her eyes and biting her lip till she tasted blood.

You insensitive bastard, Marie thought to herself as she shivered. I utterly despise you, you heartless monster.

"Well, this is decided, then." The Headmaster sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Miss Delacour, you will start tonight. I will write you a hall pass that will allow you in the dungeons after hours. Filius, do whatever is necessary to facilitate it, and do be discreet about it. We can't afford for this to become known outside this room, let alone the school."

Dismissed, they all began to shuffle toward the door.

"Severus?" Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly, causing Snape to frown sullenly as he turned to face the Headmaster. "I'd like to have a word with you, in private."

ooOoo

"Good evening." He said blandly, standing in the doorway, already dressed for bed, with his threadbare green wool robe on over sensible black silk pajamas. He didn't seem terribly inclined to move so she could enter his quarters, forcing her to nervously stand in the darkened Potions classroom. Instead, he merely glared sullenly down at her, completely blocking the doorway. Biting her lip, Marie fought back a rising temptation to kick him in the shin.

"Good evening, Professor." Marie said nervously, clutching her overnight bag to her chest. "Um…may I come in, please?"

After just a moment, Snape sighed, grudgingly moving out of the open doorway so she could enter. Closing the door, he went to his armchair and sat down. Marie stood near the fireplace, clutching her overnight bag.

"By tomorrow afternoon," He said wearily, "the floo in my bedroom will be connected to the floo in your bedroom. The Headmaster thought it will be less likely that someone would notice you coming and going that way. You will need to leave in the mornings in plenty of time to return to your dormitory…or bring clothing to wear for the next day."

"Yes, sir." She nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Snape frowned at her, his jaw working.

"I will be sleeping on the side of the bed nearest the fireplace, in case anyone floos me in the middle of the night. If you hear the floo activate, you will hide under the covers behind me, and you will not make a sound. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are allowed to…" He grimaced, as if the very idea of it was repulsive, "…touch me as you need to, but only for the amount of time necessary to alleviate your discomfort. I sleep poorly enough these days, and I don't need someone groping me constantly at night."

This was more than she could bear.

"Sir, I didn't do this on purpose!" She said, anger rising in her. "You're not being fair! I was the victim of a vicious prank, yet you act like I wanted this to happen! I can't help it that…touching you seems to be the only way that I can relieve my pain! You're being completely unreasonable!"

Suddenly he had crossed the room, looming over her, the force of his presence causing her to involuntarily stumble backward. For a moment, she thought he might strike her, and she flinched. He towered over her, his eyes flashing with anger and some other emotion that she couldn't quite determine. She felt her back hit the stone wall behind her as she backed away from him, giving a tiny squeak of terror. He glared deeply into her widened blue eyes, his jaw set grimly as he leaned closer to her.

"In case you never noticed, Miss Delacour." He hissed bitterly, his nose nearly touching hers, "Life…isn't…fair. The reckless actions of one of your housemates has brought this farce upon us. You don't want to be here, and I most certainly do not want you here. But this is how things are, for now, and I would appreciate you not whinging about it like a spoilt child!"

Turning away, he crossed the room to a liquor cabinet and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey, along with a glass. She leaned weakly against the wall, trembling, watching as he poured two fingers of the amber liquor and downed it.

"It wasn't my fault." She whispered softly, knees shaky, her voice nearly inaudible. "I didn't do anything to deserve this."

"Neither did I, Miss Delacour." Snape said, as he refilled his glass. "I do not know why, but we are both victims of that thrice-cursed abomination of a potion that your housemate slipped you. I assure you that I am spending every spare minute that I have researching a cure with Professors Flitwick and Sprout, as well as the Headmaster and Poppy."

"I'm…I'm sorry that I lost my temper, Sir."

"Never mind that." He said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Now, we do need to have some ground rules."

"I…" She swallowed nervously. "Um, yes, Sir."

"First, I have official duties both at the school and off the grounds that demand my undivided attention…and they are none of your business. They have priority over your…affliction. Should I not be available to you, you will have to wait until my return. You are not allowed to be in my quarters if I am not present."

"Yes, Sir."

"Second, you are not to ask any questions about what I am doing. I am acting on the orders of the Headmaster, and that is all you need to know. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Third, you will NOT touch me anywhere below the waist, ever. I trust you are not so naïve that I will have to explain why?"

"Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir!" Marie stammered, blushing scarlet and looking at her feet. "Um…I'm a virgin, Sir. I've never been with anyone, ever…"

"I care not one whit," Snape hissed, his eyes flashing, "about your sexual experience or activities. Whether you are a maiden or a whore, I do not care. You could be sharing the bed of every boy in this castle, and I could care less."

With that, he turned away from her, picking up his glass and taking another sip.

Marie's face was red as a beet as she glared at his back, her fingernails cutting into her palms as she fairly trembled with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. For a moment, she considered hexing him, mentally running through the curses she was confident with to pick the nastiest one. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her robes, her hand coming to rest on her wand as she set her jaw in determination. Slowly she began to draw her wand, beginning the hex in her mind.

"I don't think it would be wise." Snape said softly, not even bothering to turn around. "The results of losing your temper and hexing me could be…unpredictable at best. I would wager that you would probably come out the worse for it."

She swallowed nervously, carefully removing her trembling hand from her wand and putting her thoughts of hexing him aside. He took another sip of firewhiskey, eying her thoughtfully, his face unreadable. After a moment, he spoke again, setting the glass down on the table next to his armchair.

"Last, I will require you to take a wizarding oath to not divulge anything you may see or hear in your time spent in my quarters, especially regarding my duties outside the school. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." If anything, Marie was blushing even more deeply, hardly able to look him in the eye by now.

"Take out your wand." He said, standing up with his wand in his hand, holding his other hand out.

She looked at his outstretched hand uneasily, then reached out and took it in hers. Warmth and relief instantly surged through her, causing her knees to go weak. Her eyes closed for a moment as she felt the pain leave her, causing her to feel light-headed.

"Miss Delacour?" Snape said dryly.

"What?" She mumbled woozily, blinking, her eyes struggling to focus on her professor.

"Your wand."

"Oh! Right. My wand, got it." Marie raised her wand nervously. "Ready, Sir."

"Do you, Marie Delacour," He said, "solemnly swear not to divulge anything that you may see or hear concerning the duties assigned to Severus Snape outside this school?"

"I…solemnly…swear that I, Marie Delacour, will not divulge anything that I see or hear concerning the duties assigned to Severus Snape outside this school."

Magic swirled around them, marking the establishment of the wizarding oath, as was normal for the ritual.

Abruptly Snape jerked his hand away with a hiss of pain, dropping his wand with a clatter to cradle his hand.

"Professor!" Marie said, alarmed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He snapped, turning away from her and retrieving his wand. "Go get ready for bed. The bedroom is down that hallway, the last door on the left. If you need to use the loo, it's at the end of the hallway."

Hesitating for just a second, she left the sitting room, retreating down the short hallway to the bedroom.

Only when he heard the door to the bedroom close did he open his hand and look.

Burned into his palm of his left hand was an intricate rune, one that he'd never seen before. As he watched, the fresh burn healed rapidly, leaving only a faint, slivery scar, the rune still clear on his palm. He examined it at length, struggling to recall if he had seen one like it before, but to no avail.

What next? Severus sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. What is this dammed rune, why is this happening now?

I don't need this now, he thought, sitting down in his favorite armchair wearily. How do I teach my classes, do Dumbledore's bidding, protect Harry?

What if the Dark Lord returns? My life will be worth nothing; I will be a mere pawn in the game, manipulated by both sides.

And…now, it seems, I must allow a teenage girl to TOUCH me at night so she can live another day without agonizing pain. I think I may go mad, I'm sure of it.

What did I do to deserve this?

Why me? Do the gods despise me that much?

Life isn't fair, indeed, he thought bitterly. Who would know that better than I? After all, it's a lesson that has been driven home, over and over, all of my wretched life.

"Professor?" Marie said softly, holding her terry bathrobe tightly closed around her neck. "Um…are you coming to…to bed?"

Snape sighed, and then nodded, following the petite young woman to his bedroom.

It would seem that the gods despise me, he thought grimly, feeling as if he were being led to the gallows.

ooOoo

They slowly settled into a comfortable routine, of sorts. Every evening about eight, the flames in his sitting room fireplace would turn green and Marie would step out of them, brushing the ash from her robes. With a nervous nod of greeting to Severus, who usually was sitting in his armchair reading, she would go to the bathroom to change into her nightclothes. Curious housemates she discouraged by an artfully concocted tale of having to spend extra time studying at the library, though a few subtle memory charms were applied by Professor Flitwick to overly inquisitive fellow students, when necessary.

Severus spent many evenings between dinner and her arrival leafing through ancient reference books and scrolls, diligently searching for anything that bore the slightest resemblance to the rune on his left palm. It was a curious thing that since the return of the Dark Lord, at times it seemed to act to block or at least lessen the pain of being summoned to some degree. Its benefits tended to be somewhat unreliable and capricious, however; it was maddening that he could not find out what the rune symbolized, or what possible effects it might have. Attempts to remove it had caused him so much discomfort he had abandoned that idea completely. Frustrated, Severus had taken the precaution of applying a glamour to his hand to conceal it; the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself, and a rune that he couldn't explain could make things difficult indeed for him.

Marie devoted her time between her arrival and bedtime to her studies, spreading her textbooks and parchment out on a small desk that he conjured in the sitting room for her to use. Silently and diligently she worked, the only noise in the room being the crackle of the fire, the scratching of her quill on her parchments, and the turning of pages as Severus read in his armchair. Interaction between them was generally polite and distant, with Snape not speaking much at all to her, except to answer the occasional question from her related to her homework. This he did politely and without the usual snide sarcasm she had come to associate with him; it surprised her that he actually was quite willing to help her outside the classroom environment. Short answers to her questions eventually turned into full-blown discussions on a variety of topics beyond her studies; within a few weeks she had begun to wonder if there was anything he didn't know something about, and one night even was brave enough to ask him that question.

"I'm pretty sure that I don't know everything, Miss Delacour." He had replied, a tiny smirk on his lips. "That's why I read so much. Knowledge is something that one pursues their entire lifetime."

Gradually, her fear and dislike of him abated, probably due to the amount of time they spent together, platonic as it seemed to be. He was more polite and considerate, and she found him even charming at times, as well as rather shy. Marie would come to bed, sliding between the covers on 'her side', as she had come to think of it—the thought of it amused her, until the novelty wore off—and then Severus would put out the candle, plunging his bedroom into darkness. She gradually got brave enough to put her hand under his pajama top, the better to touch his skin; while he grudgingly allowed this more intimate contact, he never touched her.

One night toward the end of April, she felt more restless than usual, tossing and turning in the bed. Constantly she would reach out to touch him, as if to reassure herself that he was still there. He gritted his teeth, assuring himself that once she got comfortable, she would be able to sleep…and then, so would he. Finally, it got to be too much for Snape.

"Would you be still?" He said irritably, turning to glower at her in the dark bedroom.

"I'm sorry, Sir." Marie said nervously, scooting a bit farther away from him. "I'm…I guess I'm just restless, Sir. I'll be still now, I promise. Sorry."

With a muttered oath, he plumped his pillow and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Silence pressed in on her like a heavy blanket, stifling her. She closed her eyes, but still felt restless.

"Um, Sir?"

"What?" He sighed.

"Why are you so angry?" Marie asked nervously.

"That is none of your business."

She lay there in bed next to him, shivering, biting her lip. When the first soft whimper finally managed to escape her tightly closed lips, Snape sat up in bed with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"For the love of Merlin! I-are you hurting?" He asked irritably.

"No." Marie whispered. "I'm fine, Sir, really I am."

He rummaged around in the bed, locating an extra pillow and stuffing it between them as a partial barrier.

"Raise your head up a bit." He said grumpily as he rolled over to face her. "You are a terrible liar, Miss Delacour. As transparent as a pane of glass."

Despite her protests, he slid his arm under her head to act as a pillow, carefully putting his other arm around her, his hand placed on her nightdress almost exactly on her navel. Marie gasped, surprised at the warmth that suddenly seemed to spread through her abdomen. Nervously, she lay back down, resting her head on his upper arm.

"This means nothing," Snape grumbled softly in her ear, "more than me trying to get you to sleep, so I can sleep. Between teaching classes, working on that dammed antidote for your…affliction, and…what I have to do for the Headmaster, I'm exhausted. Now, please try to sleep."

Marie teetered on the verge of over-stimulation, lying there wrapped in his strong arms, his slender fingers splayed across her tummy, the soft rustle of his breath on her neck. She closed her eyes with a sigh as she tried to relax, and then realized something.

I don't hurt anymore, she thought, her body relaxing into his, reaching up to take hold of his hand. There's no…no pain at all. Just warmth.

"Um…Professor Snape?" She whispered nervously.

"What?" He sighed, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome. Now, please, go to sleep."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Miss Delacour."

I do wish she would stop running her thumb across that scar on my palm, he thought. I've searched through every book on runes at Hogwarts, including those in the restricted section…and found nothing.

This is maddening.

ooOoo

The next evening, when she went to his room, he wasn't there. She waited until nearly midnight, anxiously biting her nails and pacing the floor. Finally, she flooed Headmaster Dumbledore from the bedroom fireplace.

"Yes, how did it go, Severus?" The Headmaster said, and then blinked in surprise. "Oh. It's you, my dear. Um, is Professor Snape there?"

"No, Sir, he isn't." Marie said nervously. "I'm worried. He's always here. Where is he?"

Dumbledore pondered her question for a few moments, and then gave a sigh of resignation.

"Step aside, my dear. I'm coming through." He said, shrugging on his robe.

After a few minutes, he stepped out of the fireplace into Snape's bedroom, brushing the ash off himself. Conjuring a couple of low stools, he waved his hand, directing Marie to sit down.

"Just a moment, if you don't mind." Dumbledore said, taking some floo powder and tossing it into the fireplace. "Hospital Wing."

Something about the way he said it made Marie's stomach give a funny lurch, and a wave of nausea passed through her.

"Yes, Headmaster?" Poppy's face said from the flames. "What is…oh, dear. Is it Severus?"

"I hope not, Poppy, but I thought you might want to be prepared. Miss Delacour is with me, by the way. She…came down here to spend her time with Professor Snape, and he's not back yet. I want you to come and wait with her, while I…go look for Severus."

"Right away, Headmaster." Poppy said grimly. "Allow me to fetch a few things, and I'll be right down."

The Medi-witch's face vanished, and the flames turned their normal orange and yellow again. Dumbledore went to the other stool, next to Marie, and sat down wearily.

"What I am going to tell you, my dear, is a closely held secret." He said softly, measuring his words carefully. "Yet I feel that due to your rather unique situation, you would not do anything to endanger Professor Snape."

"Of course not, Headmaster!" Marie said, shaking her head. "I never really liked him that much, but he is a good professor, and…he has been very kind to me lately. Concerning…my problem."

"That's good to hear. I feared that he might be…less than helpful to you. I'm sure that you have noticed that he can be a bit moody?"

"That's for sure!" Marie laughed out loud, and then clapped her hands to her mouth, horrified by her outburst.

Dumbledore smiled genially, and then chuckled.

"It's alright, dear." He said gently. "A good sense of humor is necessary in these dark days."

"Are you…" Marie swallowed nervously. "Are you talking about You-know-who, sir?"

"Indeed I am, my dear. And his name is Voldemort. There's no need to be afraid of him."

"Easier said than done, sir." She said, and then her face clouded. "You said you needed to talk to me. Is it about Professor Snape? Where is he?"

The floo activated, the flames turning green in the fireplace, and Poppy stepped through with a bag.

"Hello, Miss Delacour." She said, nodding to Dumbledore. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, it's not too bad." Marie said, her anxiety growing by the minute. "Headmaster, you were saying-"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Delacour, Professor Snape has accepted a rather dangerous assignment from me. While you have been coming to his quarters at night for him to help you with your problem…tonight, you must return to your room. Poppy will escort you there. Poppy, I'm headed to the usual spot…meet me back at the Hospital wing."

With a sad smile and a nod to Poppy, Dumbledore vanished in a swirl of smoke. Marie stood up, nearly knocking her stool over.

"He just apparated!" She gasped, eyes wide. "From inside the castle-"

"He did, indeed." Poppy smiled. "Remember, he is the Headmaster, and allowed to do so, dear. Now, come with me. We need to go to the Hospital Wing…and get ready."

"But the headmaster said…"

"I'm to escort you to your room." The Medi-witch smiled grimly. "However, I need to go to the Hospital wing first, and I think you should stay with me. I might need your help, dear."

As she followed Poppy through the floo, Marie couldn't shake the feeling that this would be a very long night.

ooOoo

Stepping out of the floo into the Hospital Wing, Marie nervously followed Poppy as the Medi-witch rapidly walked down the hallway, obviously having done all of this before. The young witch only hesitated when they came to a door marked 'Restricted Area-No Admittance to Students', eyeing the sign uneasily. Poppy held the door open for her with a touch of irritation.

"Come along, dear." The Medi-witch said crisply. "We may not have much time to get ready, and I have a feeling that I'll need some help. How well did you do with your healing charms?"

"Um…pretty well, I guess." Marie replied, swallowing nervously. "I wasn't the best student, but I did alright. I can't say that I've much opportunity to practice since my class."

"Well, young lady," The Medi-witch said softly, walking down the hallway, "I'm sure you'll have an opportunity to practice tonight."

Leading Marie to a room with a single hospital bed, Poppy began to rapidly accio several items, catching them and placing them on a tray on the bedside table. As she watched, Marie's eyes grew wide. Pain-relieving potion, essence of dittany, bandages (lots of those), and a whole host of potions and materials that she'd never even heard of or even read about covered the tray, enough for a host of patients.

"This should be enough, I hope." Poppy sighed, pulling out an old pocket watch and glancing at it, nodding toward the fireplace. "Good timing, too. They should be here any minute now."

"Um, Madam Pomphrey…" Marie asked nervously eyeing a tray of sterile needles and sutures, "Does this sort of thing happen often?"

"First off, my dear, please call me Poppy, since we're going to be working together tonight."

"Yes, ma'am-I mean, yes, Poppy."

"That's better." The Medi-witch nodded. "How much has Headmaster Dumbledore told you about what Professor Snape does around here for him?"

"Not much, really. He was going to tell me something, and then you came out of the floo…"

"Ah, so I interrupted him at the moment he was going to tell you."

"Pretty much, I guess."

"Professor Snape is doing some rather dangerous…um, covert work for the Headmaster, dangerous because many of the people he is dealing with are with the Dark Lord. He—well, you'll see. Here they come now."

With a puff of swirling smoke, Headmaster Dumbledore appeared, his hand on an unconscious Professor Snape, who floated next to him in mid-air. The Headmaster frowned at Poppy.

"Poppy, is this wise, to have Miss Delacour here?" He asked gently, glancing at Marie, who was transfixed, a look of horror on her face. "I believe that I asked you to take her to her room."

"She needs to touch him, Albus." Poppy said calmly, walking over to begin her examination of Snape. "We're killing two birds with one stone. Besides, you know how this kind of thing is. Odds are good I could use some help, and the girl has had her healer training, and did well in her class."

That's not what I said! Marie thought, meaning to speak it aloud, but the sight before her prevented it. Indeed, it seemed that she could not draw breath to even speak.

She couldn't tear her gaze away from him. He floated before her, his face deathly pale, eyes closed. Numerous cuts covered his face and hands, with the blood that dripped from his clothing silently confirming that there were more injuries that were hidden. Headmaster Dumbledore watched her carefully for a few seconds, and then spoke.

"Sectumsempra…a curse that Severus himself invented, while he was still a student here at Hogwarts. Generally not fatal, but it has been combined tonight with the Cruciatus curse, the unforgivable that you should have learned about in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes."

"It…it's horrible!" Marie whispered, still horrified. "Who would do such a thing?"

Dumbledore shook his head, floating Severus' body over to the hospital bed and gently placing the injured Potions Master on it.

"Voldemort, or one of his minions." He sighed, glancing at Poppy.

"But why? Why Professor Snape?" Marie asked. "What is going on here?"

"For Merlin's sake, Albus!" Poppy snapped, glaring at him as she tended Severus' wounds. "Just tell her. She's old enough to understand, she's not a child."

"Miss Delacour," Dumbledore said with a weary sigh, "what I am going to tell you may endanger your life. Are you willing to accept that?"

Hesitantly, Marie nodded. She could still scarcely tear her eyes from Severus. He still lay unconscious on the bed, Poppy carefully cutting off his clothing with a set of shears, revealing deep cuts in his upper torso. The scraps shirt piled up on the floor, waiting to be removed by the house elves, fine white Egyptian cotton now stained reddish brown with drying blood.

So much blood, she thought with a shudder, unconsciously reaching down to take Severus' hand in her own. For a change, it felt icy cold to her touch, not the warmth that she was used to, and the feeling of relief was not nearly as strong.

I feel so helpless, she thought in despair. I can't do anything to help him now.

"Miss Delacour?" Dumbledore said patiently, snapping her back to reality.

"Sir?"

"Are you alright, my dear?"

"Yes, Sir. Um…I was just…"

"Perhaps you'd better repeat yourself, Albus." Poppy said, pausing at Severus' left sleeve. "It would be a good idea, since I'm about to take his left sleeve off."

"Yes, I agree with that." The Headmaster sighed. "Miss Delacour, Professor Snape is a…former Death Eater. He is presently…gathering information on the activities of the Dark Lord, information that we hope to use to defeat him. As you can see, this work can be…rather dangerous."

Marie winced as Poppy carefully pulled Severus' shirt sleeve down his arm, the blood causing the cloth to stick to his skin. As she did so, bit by bit, the brand of the Dark Mark came to light. Marie stared at it, horrified, yet fascinated all at the same time.

ooOoo

The next day, she fell asleep in her Transfiguration class, clutching her quill in her hand. She'd managed to get a bit of fitful sleep, sitting in a chair next to Professor Snape's hospital bed, holding his hand, but it wasn't enough. She opened her eyes slowly to the realization that her head was on her Transfiguration textbook, and worse yet, Professor McGonagall was standing next to her desk. Marie sat up abruptly with a gasp of shock.

The classroom was empty, save for her and the professor, who was leaning against the desk, her arms folded across her chest.

"Professor, I'm sorry." She blurted out, blushing deeply when her empty stomach growled.

"Never mind, dear." McGonagall said gently, patting her shoulder. "I know you must be exhausted. Poppy told me you were in the Hospital wing most all night, working with her."

"Yes, ma'am. It…it was pretty bad. I-" Abruptly she put her hand to her mouth, afraid she'd said too much.

"What was bad?" Minerva asked, frowning. "She told me that you were working on some healing charms with her, and you both lost track of the time. What happened? Did something go wrong?"

Marie froze, her eyes widening, certain that she'd given it away.

"Ah, there you are, my dear girl." Headmaster Dumbledore said, walking into the classroom. "Not to worry, Professor McGonagall, Marie was helping Poppy with a special project I assigned to her. I need for you to come to my office for a moment, Marie."

"Yes, Sir." Marie nodded, collecting her books and putting them in her bag. "Has something happened?"

"No, not really." Dumbledore smiled gently. "It's just that your parents are here, my dear, to confer with me about your…situation."

The book bag slid out of Marie's hands, hitting the floor with a muted clunk. Suddenly, her ravenous hunger had given way to nausea.

ooOoo

"I wish to remove my daughter from this school."

Dumbledore smiled indulgently at Marcel Delacour as he sat on the couch next to his wife, Helene. Marie's father was obviously agitated enough for both of them, however, Helene seemed quite relaxed, giving Marcel a tolerant smile. Marie sat in an armchair near the fireplace, her feet pulled up underneath her, wrapped in a wool blanket. Her nails were nearly bitten to the quick.

"I fear that would be quite unwise, Monsieur Delacour." The Headmaster said, picking up his dish of candy. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, Headmaster." Marcel snapped irritably, his face quite red by now. "I do not care that the school year is not yet finished, we are taking Marie home today."

They had been at this for several hours, with dinner delivered by the house elves, the meal only serving to act as a break in the argument. Marie had eaten virtually nothing, despite the encouragement of both the Headmaster and her parents. She wasn't certain that she would keep what little food she'd eaten down for long.

It's been nearly 10 hours since I touched him, Marie thought uneasily, realizing it wouldn't be long till she needed to again. We need to end this quickly, or I'm going to floo to the Hospital wing by myself, even if they try to stop me.

"What's wrong with her?" Marcel asked, a note of concern in his voice as he looked over at his daughter. He rose from his chair and went over to where she was sitting near the fireplace. Marie was curled into a ball in the armchair, the wool blanket wrapped tightly around her as she shivered, her eyes on the container of floo powder on the mantel.

"Marie? Ma chérie?" He said, repeating himself several times until she looked at him. "Marie, are you alright? Are you cold?"

"I'm sorry about this, Papa." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I didn't mean to cause you so much trouble…"

"I am not angry with you, ma bichette." He said softly, gently tucking a stray tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. "I am angry with the Headmaster, and this Professor Snape. They are abusing my darling-"

"That's not true, Papa." She said, pausing to grit her teeth as a particularly bad cramp came to her. "Ah…Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape have been helping me, everyone is trying to help me after this happened. So far, Professor Snape has been the only person who can help me."

"So where is this Professor Snape?" Marie's mother frowned, glancing over at Dumbledore. "Should he not be here for this meeting?"

"Professor Snape is…indisposed." Dumbledore said, with a warning glance directed at Marie. "He was injured, working in his private potions lab yesterday evening, and is presently in the Hospital Wing."

"All the same, we are taking Marie with us, Headmaster Dumbledore." Marcel said, turning to look at the Headmaster defiantly. "We will take her to the best Healers, and we will find what is ailing her so she may be cured."

"Monsieur Delacour, I must advise against such a thing." Dumbledore said, folding his hands in front of him on his desk as he leaned forward.

"Nonsense. Helene, get our coats." Marie's father snapped, getting up from where he knelt next to his daughter. "We are leaving-"

He was interrupted by an ear-piercing shriek that came from his daughter as she fell to the floor by the fireplace, writhing in agony. Iridescent floo powder spilled from her hand, sparkling motes drifting upward as some of it contacted the flames.

"I feared this might happen." Dumbledore sighed, rising from his seat. Taking out his wand, he pointed it at Marie and murmured a few words in Latin while making a quite intricate motion with his wand. Instantly, she was quiet and still, tangled in a heap in the blanket on the rug, only an infrequent twitch showing her pain. With another wave of his wand, Marie rose until she floated about three feet above the floor, hovering between them.

"Follow me, please." The Headmaster said, taking some floo powder and tossing it into the fireplace. "Hospital Wing."

ooOoo

Muffled voices, seeping through the fog of unconsciousness.

"She's waking up."

Poppy's voice, close by. She was in the Hospital Wing.

"About time. Marie, can you hear us?"

Slowly, Marie opened her eyes, with great effort. She was in the hospital wing, lying on a bed that had been pushed over next to the one where Professor Snape lay unconscious, with her fingers entwined in his. She looked around her, sitting up partly, to see her parents get up, where they had been sitting with Headmaster Dumbledore over by the door. Her mother came over to her, leaning across Professor Snape to brush her daughter's unruly blonde hair from her eyes.

"Ma chérie, are you feeling better?" She said, her eyes dark with concern as she tucked Marie's hair behind her ear.

"Oui, Mama." Marie whispered hoarsely, and then coughed, clearing her throat. "Can I have some water? I am so thirsty."

"Of course, darling." Her mother conjured a glass and filled it with her wand, then held it to her mouth.

Marie drank carefully, pausing only once.

"How do you feel?" Helene asked softly, vanishing the glass.

"Exhausted, Mama." Marie sighed wearily, "I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Rest, then."

Nodding sleepily, Marie laid back down with a yawn, closing her eyes. Within minutes, she was fast asleep, still clutching Severus' hand tightly in hers.

"As you can see," Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly, "physical contact with Professor Snape seems to be the only thing that can alleviate her symptoms. It seems that it has something to do with the accidental contamination of the potion with a hair from Professor Snape, though we're at a loss so far to say why."

"So, this potion that the girl slipped to Marie," Marcel said, a touch of anger in his voice, "it was intended to turn her into an ugly hag?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Due to the contamination, and other faults with the making of the potion, it did not have the desired effect. Instead, we have this…chills, cramping pain, sleepwalking-and the effects do not seem to be wearing off. If anything, she seems to be getting worse."

"I know of this Snape quite well," Marie's father scowled. "He is very well known to us in the Ministry as a Death Eater-"

"Former Death Eater, Monsieur Delacour." Dumbledore corrected him.

"He still bears the Dark Mark, Headmaster. So this man, this 'former' follower of the Dark Lord, my daughter has to touch him in order to not suffer? This is outrageous! We must find a cure immediately!"

"I fear, Monsieur, that it will not be that easy."

"Professor Snape is not the only potions master around, you know! We will make arrangements—"

"Marcel." Helene said firmly, looking sharply at her husband. "Stop it. Right this instant."

Marcel began to protest, but something in his wife's eyes caused him to stop.

"You know what my grandmother was." Helene said softly, sitting on the bed next to Marie, one hand resting on her daughter protectively. "We must be cautious here. If the potion did not have the desired effect, it could have been due to Marie having Veela blood. While most potions are quite safe, there are some that might not be, and if the potion was made as poorly as you say, it could be very bad for her."

"Madame Delacour," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes grave, "We are doing everything we possibly can to help your daughter."

ooOoo

When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her.

"I told you not to come." Professor Snape whispered hoarsely, his voice nearly inaudible.

"I couldn't help it." Marie said softly, tears springing to her eyes. "I went to your room, you were not there-"

"And I told you not to stay if I wasn't there."

He said it with no anger in his voice, as if he were not scolding her.

"I'm glad that you are not hurt too badly." She said, before she could stop herself, clapping one hand to her mouth, eyes widening, expecting him to become angry with her.

Instead he just sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"No one is more glad of that than I, Miss Delacour." Severus said weakly. "I take it that we are in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, Sir." She nodded.

"And Poppy arranged it so you could sleep close enough to me to touch me, to alleviate your pain."

"Yes, Sir." For a moment, Marie hesitated. "Um, Sir…?"

"Yes?"

"My parents were here yesterday." She said uneasily, biting her lip. "They…they want to take me out of school, to take me back to London. The Headmaster, I think he talked them out of it, but-"

"Wonderful." He sighed, shifting in his bed with a grimace of pain. "I told the Headmaster this whole thing was a bad idea."

"My mother told him they would not interfere, Sir." Marie said softly. "Papa didn't like it, but Mama told him that we would have to stay together, at least until you find a cure."

He frowned deeply, and then abruptly tried to sit up, only to flop back down on the bed with a hiss of pain, closing his eyes.

"Professor Snape!" Marie cried, rising from her bed to lean over him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." He said, gritting his teeth as he struggled to rise. "I need to get to my lab, to…work on a cure for you. I'm wasting valuable time lying up here in a hospital bed."

By now, she was hovering over him, her hands on his shoulders.

"No, Sir." She said, setting her jaw stubbornly. "You're not getting up. You're hurt."

"I beg your pardon?" He said, incredulous. "Did you, a student, just tell me, 'no'?"

"I did." Marie said, trembling slightly. She pushed her nervousness aside. "If you try to get up, I'll ring the call bell for Poppy. I mean it. I don't care if you take points or give me detention."

Slowly, a crooked smile spread across Professor Snape's face. Marie was so surprised that she took her hands off his shoulders for a moment. With a smirk, he sat up, making it nearly halfway.

"Oh, no, you don't." She snapped angrily, regaining her composure. Putting her hands back on his shoulders, she moved over to his bed so she could better prevent him from getting up. Panting with the effort, she glared down at him.

"You're too badly hurt to get up just yet." Marie scolded him, her face mere inches from his. "I was here when you got back…from whatever it was that you were up to. I helped Poppy patch you up, and I'm not about to allow you to get up before you heal. You lost a lot of blood-"

"You were here when I returned?" He sputtered, his face reddening with fury. "I told you not to—"

"I didn't exactly have much choice." She shot back, her anger for once overriding her fear of him. "Poppy dragged me up here to the Hospital Wing to help her. Now, I will not have you tearing open all of the cuts that I had to spend nearly an hour stitching up! Is that clear?"

For a long moment, they glared at each other, neither willing to budge. Bright blue eyes staring down dark brown ones, neither willing to give an inch.

Finally, Severus broke the stalemate.

"Miss Delacour."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You are a pain."

"Thank you, Sir." She smirked.

"What I mean is, you are hurting me." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Also, I badly need to piss, if you don't mind. I'd really like it better if you were not sitting on my bladder, as pleasant as it might be otherwise."

Marie slowly blushed crimson, removing her hands from his shoulders and getting off of him. Reaching over to her bed, she rang the call bell.

After a few minutes, Poppy came bustling in.

"Is everything alright, dear?" She blinked in surprise. "Oh! Severus, I see you're awake."

"Obviously." He sneered, drawing out every single syllable in the word. "Might it be possible for a gentleman in your fine establishment to somehow use the loo?"

"Of course, Severus." Poppy said, with a touch of sarcasm. "All you need to do is call a house elf. Merlin knows, you've been a patient here enough times to know that."

ooOoo

Three days later, Poppy unwillingly allowed Severus to return to his abode in the dungeons, after Headmaster Dumbledore pointed out that he needed his potions professor back. For the most part, things seemed to return to normal, though Marie immediately noticed some subtle changes. Snape seemed to be just as churlish and menacing in the classroom, often pointing out mistakes she made with her potions work with a bit of petty glee, but he was silent and aloof outside it, barely speaking to her at all.

He was a completely different person when they were alone together in the evenings before bed; polite, friendly, and even somewhat open to conversation on a number of topics. While Severus would simply change the subject if the discussion got too personal, he did reveal more of himself and his life than she suspected most students knew. However, Marie made the mistake of asking about Harry Potter's parents once—and only once, after he clammed up and refused to speak to her for three days straight.

There's something to that, she thought, glancing furtively over her Transfiguration text book at him.

Feeling her gaze, he looked up at her from his book, raising an eyebrow. Marie blushed, ducking behind her textbook.

He always catches me lately, she thought, struggling to concentrate on her reading. It's almost as if…we can sense each other's gaze. As if…oh, Merlin…the dreams…does he know?

She raised her head back up, a rising feeling of uneasiness sweeping over her as she dared once again to look over at him. Snape was looking hard at her, with an expression of curiosity mixed with confusion.

Legilimency, she realized, feeling the familiar pressure probing at her, yet failing to find entry to her mind. He's trying to use it on me, and it's not working. Or he's sensing something different about me…

Her eyes widened, and her textbook slipped out of her hand to hit the floor with a clunk. Suddenly, she felt as if she could not breathe, and was only dimly aware that Severus was speaking to her. Suddenly it came to her, her blood seeming to pound in her ears like hammers on an anvil.

Grandmother…

"Excuse me, Sir," Marie blurted out, fleeing to the loo. Slamming the door behind her and locking it, she barely made it to the toilet before she was violently sick.

ooOoo

Two days later, she was walking down the hallway near the library, when she met one of her housemates, Luna Lovegood. At first, Marie thought that she would pass by, but she instead stopped in front of Marie, blocking her path.

"Excuse me, Marie." Luna said softly. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am." Marie sighed. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to take these books back to the library…"

"I was just wondering why you skipped Potions class yesterday." Luna said, crossing her arms. "And the day before, too. Is Snape picking on you again?"

"I don't want to discuss it, Lovegood." Marie snapped, moving to go around the younger witch, only to find her way blocked by Luna putting her arm out, her palm flat on the stone wall.

"May I pass?" Marie said, struggling to control her temper.

"Of course." Luna said, taking her arm down. "I'm just worried about you. Ever since that business with Eugenia, you've been acting rather oddly. Especially around Professor Snape. What is going on between you two, anyway?"

"Nothing. He's just being the normal irritating git that he usually is, just as he is with everyone. I'm not getting any special treatment."

"That's why I'm worried, Marie. He seems to be so much harsher on you in class, but he's really not. I can tell it's just an act, just by the way he looks at you. It's rather strange. He's not…doing things to you, is he?"

"I…No!" Marie cried, horrified. "I…I really have to go, Luna."

Slipping past the younger witch, she fled down the hall as fast as she could, returning the books to the library forgotten. When she finally stopped running, panting and completely out of breath, she found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Collapsing to sit on the cold stone floor, Marie leaned weakly against the wall, closing her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she waited until the pain passed, releasing a shaky sigh of relief when it finally abated to a tolerable level.

I need to go see him tonight, she sighed. Two days is about how long I can stand the pain by myself, and I'm nearly at the limits of what I can bear. But I'm afraid to be with him now.

The dreams, she thought with a shudder, dropping her books to cradle her head in her hands miserably. Oh, Merlin, the dreams. They're worse than ever now, especially now that I've been avoiding him. 'Doing things to me', Luna? It's not like I don't want him to…

ooOoo

April 15, 1995, about 3 a.m. ~

A half-second later, and it would have been entirely too late.

Snape had drowsily opened his eyes to find Marie crouched above him, kissing him passionately. As he became more awake, he realized that he was not dreaming of something warm and moist caressing his cock; the reality of the situation was that she nearly had him lined up to penetrate her. In a sudden panic, he realized that Marie was just one hard push away from her deflowering. Uttering a most profane oath, he took hold of himself to prevent it, roughly pushing her off of him. With an indignant yelp, she rolled off of the bed, landing hard on the cold stone floor.

"Miss Delacour!" He snapped, struggling to pull his pajamas back up and cover himself. "Have you gone mad?!"

Lighting the candle on his bedside table, he got out of bed and went over to where she lay huddled on the floor. Her nightgown was still hiked up past her hips. Blushing, Severus kept his eyes up so he would not see, accioing a blanket from the bed and covering the young witch.

"Now, see here, Miss Delacour…" He began, and then stopped as she turned to look up at him.

She blinked slowly, as if she were having trouble focusing on him. Sitting up, she blushed, glancing around herself.

"Professor Snape?" She said hesitantly, her blue eyes wide, confusion on her face. "Why am I on the floor? Did I fall out of bed?"

Her blush deepened abruptly as she tugged her nightgown down to cover herself.

"Where did my panties go?" She blurted out.

ooOoo

"This is most puzzling." Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly. "She was not successful?"

Severus sat across from him on the couch, a glass of firewhiskey in unsteady hands, his eyes firmly on the floor.

"No." Severus said quietly, shivering slightly as he took a sip of the fiery liquor. "Half a second later, and she would have been. I almost didn't wake in time to stop her."

"And when she…came to, she had no recollection of what had happened?"

"None whatsoever. She slept the rest of the night without incident, then got up, got ready for her classes, and left. She acted as if nothing had happened at all."

"If I may ask, where did you spend the rest of the night?"

"Next to the bed, in a chair that I conjured up." Severus snapped irritably. "Do you think I'd be foolish enough to be in the bed with her after that? Albus, I warned you that something like this might happen. The girl is one-quarter Veela, after all."

"So, you have been up all night."

"I was. I didn't dare go back to sleep after that."

"So, at some time during the night, she removed her panties and your pajamas, got you…um, ready, and attempted to have intercourse with you?"

"Yes." Severus snapped, his voice unsteady. "I've already told you once, and I don't really care to repeat it. It's bad enough that it happened at all. Thus, my resignation, Headmaster."

He'd cancelled his classes for the day after Marie left, and then headed straight to the Headmaster's office. At this point, he was on his second glass of firewhiskey, and Dumbledore seemed inclined to keep refilling his glass. The Headmaster didn't seem angry, but his blue eyes were dark with concern as he studied his Potions Master. Dumbledore tapped a parchment on his desk with one finger, frowning.

"You know that I won't accept this." The Headmaster said, eyeing the younger wizard soberly as he drained his glass.

"I figured as much." Snape sighed, and then drained his glass.

Dumbledore took out his wand and refilled the glass with firewhiskey, then tossed the parchment up in the air, muttering 'incendio'. The parchment burst into flames, falling onto the desk as ashes, which the Headmaster promptly vanished.

"The rune on your palm, have you managed to find anything on it yet?"

"No." Snape said, taking another sip of firewhiskey. "Nothing anywhere. I have been through every book related to runes in both my private library and the school library, as well as consulted with every expert in the field. I have yet to find any information on it. It's driving me mad, Albus."

"Take a personal day, Severus." Dumbledore said quietly. "Get some rest, if you can."

ooOoo

April 16, 1995, 9 a.m. ~

"You sent for me, Headmaster?" Snape said, stepping into the Headmaster's office.

"Yes, come in, Severus." Dumbledore said, rising from his desk. Snape walked in, glancing over toward the couch.

Oh, bloody hell, he thought, abruptly feeling rather nauseous and struggling to keep it from showing in his expression.

Helene Delacour sat there, eyeing him speculatively.

"Bonjour, Professor Snape." She smiled, nodding to him politely.

"Bonjour…Madame Delacour." He replied, glancing nervously at the Headmaster. "This is quite…an unexpected surprise."

"Sit down here, Professor Snape." Helene said, patting the couch next to her. "You poor man, you look utterly exhausted."

Warily, Severus passed by her, choosing instead to sit in an armchair well out of reach. Helene frowned, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Severus, no need to be so unfriendly." Dumbledore smiled. "Would you care for some firewhiskey?"

"Headmaster, are you aware of what…this witch is?" Snape hissed, eyeing Marie's mother uneasily.

"One-half Veela, correct, Madame?" The Headmaster said, glancing at Helene, who nodded genially. "Rest assured, Severus, Madame Delacour is not actively using her…charms right now."

"I'm here to see if I can help," Helene said gently, "with my daughter's problem, Professor Snape."

"What's this all about, then?" Severus asked carefully.

"I came to see if I could help you with the rune you were researching." She smiled. "May I see it?"

He glanced at the Headmaster, who frowned at him, as if to say get on with it. With a sigh, Snape held his left hand out to Helene, palm up. She leaned over, examining it closely, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Abruptly she sat back up, her smile gone from her face, replaced by a grim expression.

"Professor…" She said quietly, looking hard at Snape, "Has Marie done anything…unusual lately?"

Snape nervously glanced at the Headmaster.

"I have told her nothing, Severus." Dumbledore said gently. "Tell her what you feel she needs to know."

"I…she awakened me this morning, around three." Severus said hesitantly, his eyes shifting from Madame Delacour to the Headmaster, then back again. "She…"

I feel as if I'm about to cut my own throat, he thought in despair, his face an impassive mask.

"Go on, Professor." Helene said gently.

Severus sighed.

"She was…in a state of…need." He said, squirming uncomfortably under the level gaze of Helene's blue eyes. "I…awakened just in time to preserve…her chastity. Madame Delacour, I have tendered my resignation to the Headmaster, and I extend my humblest apologies…"

"Never mind that." Helene said dismissively, impatiently leaning toward him. "Was there anything unusual about her behavior? Did she seem herself?"

"No…she…she actually seemed," Severus said softly, "to be in a trance of some kind. When she came out of it, she had no recollection of what had happened, or why. She was disoriented, as if she had just awakened."

Helene turned to the Headmaster, her expression grave.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I need to speak with my daughter, in private." She said, pursing her lips in thought. "Also, I will need to speak to Madame Pomphrey. Professor Snape, I will speak with you more on this later."

ooOoo

April 16, 1995, 11:30 p.m. London~

"This is madness. Madness, I say!"

"It must be done, Marcel." Helene Delacour said quietly, turning toward her husband in their bed. "I don't see any alternative at this point."

"She is but sixteen years old!"

"She will be seventeen in less than a month."

"There is nothing we can do? Surely, we can remove this…curse."

"Marcel, do you remember my mother?" Helene said softly. "Do you remember what happened to her after my father was lost, taken in the First Wizarding War?"

He said nothing, looking away from her.

"She is bonded to him, Marcel." She said, sitting up in the bed to look down at him. "Her Veela blood has reacted somehow with that…potion that awful girl gave to her, and now she has bonded with Professor Snape. Neither of them wants this, but they are bonded, until the bond is somehow broken…and it is unto death."

"I don't have to like this, Helene." He sighed, swiping tears from his eyes angrily. "She is…our only child. I hate to see her with…with such a horrible man. He was a Death Eater, and for all we know, he might still be a Death Eater!"

"Death Eater or not," She said gently, cupping his face in her hands, "He is marked as hers. It is out of our hands now."

ooOoo

April 20, 1995, 8:20 a.m. ~

"Slut."

The word echoed in the hallway behind her, amplified by a sonorous charm. Someone hidden in the shadows of an alcove giggled. Marie spun around to glare behind her for her tormentor, but saw nothing but an empty hallway. She'd left her Transfiguration book in Severus' sitting room, and had to excuse herself from Professor Flitwick's class to go get it.

"I have to assign you detention," Professor Flitwick had said to her, almost apologetically, "for being unprepared for class, dear."

"I understand, Sir." Marie had nodded, taking the hall pass from him.

She had run straight to the dungeons, then slipped into Professor Snape's private quarters through the Potions classroom, which had been empty. As she left, she glanced at the door, and spotting a note tacked there, rose on her tiptoes to read it.

Classes this morning are cancelled. Classes this afternoon will be as scheduled. –Professor Snape.

Marie frowned, reading the note again.

I wonder what he is doing this morning, she mused, turning from the door of the Potions classroom and starting down the hallway.

It was then that she'd heard the ugly word, and now Marie glared into the distance, trying to discern if someone were using disillusionment to conceal themselves. For the past few weeks, someone had been harassing her constantly; nothing she could go to the Headmaster or her Head of House with, as she could never seem to catch the perpetrators, but she was at the point where she'd had about enough of it.

Marie reached into her robe pocket to draw her wand, determined to catch them in the act. Just as she began to make the wand motion, three Slytherin girls appeared before her, wands drawn.

"Stupefy!" A tall auburn haired girl said from behind her, smirking as Marie's eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed, unconscious.

Nudging the unconscious Ravenclaw with her foot, the Slytherin leaned down and spat in her face.

"We'll teach you to mess with our head of house, you whore." She said, nodding to the other girls. "Take her in there. You there, ward the door once we're in."

As the other girls floated Marie away, the auburn haired girl picked up Marie's wand, tucking it into her robe pocket with a satisfied smirk.

ooOoo

"You're mad." Snape snarled, pacing in front of the fireplace in the Headmaster's office.

"I wish that were true." Helene Delacour said softly as she sat on the couch watching him.

Headmaster Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, paying little mind to the angry Potions Professor as he considered what they had just been told.

"What happens if I refuse?" Severus said defiantly, stopping to glare down at her.

"I…I don't know." Helene said. "But I hope you consider carefully. My daughter's life could depend on it, Professor."

As he stood there, Snape slowly shook his head, as if trying to clear it.

"Albus, please!" He begged, turning to the Headmaster. "This kind of thing is completely inappropriate! I cannot in good conscience have…sexual relations with a student, no matter what the circumstances!"

"I understand how you feel, Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "But you heard Madam Delacour. The rune marks you as Marie's mate, according to ancient Veela custom."

"It's a mistake, then." Snape snapped, shooting a glare at Helene. "That thrice-dammed abomination of a potion has influenced her selection somehow, and as I said, I cannot abide this. I refuse to do it."

"What?" Helene said, her eyes widening.

"I refuse to sleep with your daughter any longer." Snape hissed. "We will concentrate on brewing a potion to alleviate her symptoms. I also refuse to have sex with her, under any circumstances. Contrary to what some people believe about me, I do still have some ethics that I still strive to live by."

"Professor Snape, please reconsider!"

Helene's pleading was interrupted by a pop as Winky, Severus' house elf, appeared in the middle of the room. Ignoring the other two people in the room, the house elf turned to her master, grabbing him by the hand.

"Master Severus, you must come to Slytherin girl's loo now!" The house elf shouted, "Miss Marie, she is in trouble!"

With a pop, they vanished.

ooOoo

He was kneeling; holding her upright as he gently cleaned her face with a damp flannel. Four students lay on the floor unconscious; while a fifth Slytherin girl cowered by the sinks, her terrified eyes fixed on her head of house. Headmaster Dumbledore entered the room, followed by Madam Delacour and Poppy, shaking his head at the broken sink and the water covering the floor.

"What happened, Professor Snape?" The Headmaster asked, lifting his robes to keep them out of the water.

"It appears that Miss Delacour was ambushed," Severus hissed, shooting the girl by the sinks a glare, "By these five members of my house. They bound her, dragged her into the loo, and proceeded to torment her at length, smearing her with…mud and paint, and…teasing her. I subdued them."

Marie was trembling, clutching his arm, her eyes tightly closed as she sobbed into his chest. Poppy went to her, kneeling beside her to examine her for injuries.

"Miss Stewart, is this true?" Dumbledore said, looking sternly at the frightened Slytherin girl.

"I…I…" She stammered, glancing fearfully at her Head of House.

"Answer the Headmaster, and truthfully, Miss Stewart." Snape growled, pinning her to the wall with his black eyes. "Tell him…everything. Do…not…lie or you will answer to me for it."

"Y-yes, Sir." Miss Stewart nodded nervously. "We…we caught her in the dungeons, Headmaster, she…she was coming out of Professor Snape's private quarters. Victoria Bannon said that she…shouldn't be down here. Emily Spinks cast stupefy on her, then bound her, and then we…"

"Go on, dear." Dumbledore prodded gently.

"Well, they woke her up and started teasing her, Sir." The girl said, glancing from Snape to the Headmaster. "They…I didn't do anything, Sir! I just kept watch-"

"You aided your housemates in an assault on another student." Snape sneered. "You should be expelled for this. Whether or not that happens depends on you."

Faintly, he heard Marie whisper something.

"What did you say?" Severus said gently.

"They saw me leaving your rooms." Marie whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. "They…they called me…a whore."

ooOoo

April 21, 1995, 7 a.m. ~

"Professor Snape?"

Wearily, he raised his head to look at Helene Delacour, who stood in the doorway. Marie was still sound asleep in one of the beds in the Hospital Wing, after Poppy had demanded that she at least spend the night there, for observation. Her injuries hadn't been that severe, but Marie had been quite upset by the assault, and quite reluctant to allow Severus out of her sight for even a moment. He was sitting next to Marie, with his head on his arms as she clutched one of his arms to herself, and had been fitfully dozing when her mother walked in.

"Yes?" He said, his voice nearly devoid of emotion. He felt completely drained and badly wanted have a bit more sleep, even if it was only a nap in his chair.

Helene walked over to the bed, conjuring a chair to sit down on facing him, and then sat down with a weary sigh.

"Professor, you know both of us, Apolline and I." She said quietly. "Did you know our parents?"

"Henri and Marianne Besson." Severus said, closing his eyes.

"You knew him?"

"I knew of him." He said quietly. "I never met him. I've read all of his books, still have most all of them in my personal library. He was…he inspired me to pursue a career as a potions master."

"So you know what happened to him."

"I…only know that he disappeared." Snape said, looking at her. "That he was…lost, during the war."

"I last saw my father on October 15, 1971." Helene said softly, tears welling up in her eyes at the memory. "He took my sister and I to school, kissed us goodbye, and…I never saw him again. There…we had a memorial service, but…his body was never found."

"I'm sorry." He said earnestly, looking down at his hands.

"Thank you." She said, dabbing at her eyes with her hanky. "I…I appreciate it."

After a long, somewhat uncomfortable silence, she finally spoke again.

"I know that you are just as much a victim of that girl's attack on Marie as my daughter is. I know that you did not want this to happen, Professor Snape."

He just nodded politely.

"You have been put in a most uncomfortable situation." Helene went on. "I am truly sorry about that. But as her mother, I must point out…that while you are not my first choice of…a mate for my daughter, I cannot question her judgement on this."

"Her judgement? I don't see how this could be possible." He said warily. "If she chose a…mate, as you put it, she was under the influence of that potion, and surely Veela custom allows for such a thing to be nullified."

"Did you attempt to remove the rune?" She asked.

"Yes, and it hurt like Hades to try it." Snape hissed. "This dammed rune has been a pain ever since it appeared on my hand. It awakens me in the middle of the night, it burns like hellfire at times…I…I want it off, immediately."

"Professor Snape," Helene said softly, "I respect your feelings on this matter. Because you are my daughter's teacher, you feel that you cannot…consummate this bonding. I respect you for that. But I beg you to reconsider, for her sake. Her magic, it has marked you as hers. As far as I know, there is no way to remove the rune."

"I will find a cure for this, Madam Delacour." He replied curtly. "There will be no more discussion on this matter. I will not have sex with your daughter, no matter that she is of age, willing, or that we are bonded by some misguided Veela magic. That is the end of the discussion."

"I failed to finish my tale." She said, pursing her lips. "Do you know what happened to my mother, Professor Snape?"

"No."

"She died." Helene said softly, tears welling in her eyes. "It took…many years, but she…finally found peace. She fell ill only a few months after Papa went missing. Apolline and I, we did what we could for her, but…it…"

She drew in a shuddering breath, pressing the hanky firmly against her eyes as if she could force the tears to stop. Biting her lip, she forced herself to breathe, to calm down. To somehow find a way to persuade this stubborn man to save her daughter.

Severus sat silently, watching her dab at her eyes once more. After a brief struggle to compose herself, Helene continued.

"Promise me, Professor Snape," She whispered urgently, "Promise me that you will be careful. I know that the Dark Lord has returned. If you were to die…I fear for my daughter."

"I promise I will be careful." Snape nodded, concealing the whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him behind a solid wall of occlumency.

ooOoo

He sat silently in the hospital room, staring out the window at the raindrops trickling down the glass panes, long after Madam Delacour had left.

So it seems, I must consummate this bonding.

To do so may give her some form of more permanent relief.

To do so will put her in mortal danger from the Dark Lord.

To do so will give him a powerful lever to control me with, should he find out about her.

To do so will violate any shred of decency and ethics I cling to.

This whole farce is a violation of her free will, a twisted and sick warping of Veela ritual and custom.

This is completely insane.

I cannot in good conscience expose her to such danger, to take her as mine.

She deserves to have a better man than me, to have a better life than I can offer her.

My days are numbered, as it is, he thought bitterly. No need to drag another innocent soul down with me.

Sighing deeply, he sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.

I'm so tired of being manipulated by everyone.

"Professor Snape?"

Taking his hand down, he looked over at the bed. Marie was awake, her blue eyes dark with concern.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Alright, just a bit tired. Sir, you look exhausted."

Unable to think of anything to say, he simply nodded wearily.

"Thank you for…rescuing me, Sir." Marie murmured softly, closing her eyes.

ooOoo

April 23, 1995~

She was sitting on the couch, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to read her Advanced Transfiguration textbook. Rain pattered gently on the windowpanes as the fire crackled and popped in the fireplace, while across the room the grandfather clock steadily marked time with its swinging pendulum. He'd only moved once all evening, to rewind and check the setting on the grandfather clock. Once he'd closed the door on the front of the clock, carrying a thick old book, he settled into his armchair after picking up a bottle of firewhiskey and a glass.

"To bed, Miss Delacour." He said, glancing over at her as he poured two fingers of the golden liquor into the glass. "You have school tomorrow."

"Are you coming with me?" She asked. "You have to teach, Sir."

"Not yet."

"Will you sleep in the bed with me?"

"No." He said, looking down at the floor. "I will sit next to the bed…so you may hold my hand to have your…contact, but I will not get into the bed with you."

She let slip a sigh of frustration, marking her place and walking off to the bedroom, quietly fuming under her breath. Taking her time getting ready for bed, she slid between the green flannel sheets and closed her eyes, alone.

She didn't think she could sleep, but found herself awakened by something. When she tried to light the candle by the bedside, she could not; it had burned out while she waited for Severus to come to bed. Lighting the tip of her wand, she rummaged around in his bedside table for another candle and put it in the holder, then lit it. By his old Muggle alarm clock, it was nearly one in the morning.

Puzzled, she went down the short hallway to the sitting room. He was sitting in his armchair, fast asleep, his book cradled in his hands. As she approached him, his face contorted as if in agony, and he let out a low moan as a shudder passed through his body.

That's about enough of this, Marie thought to herself, steeling herself and approaching him. She knelt in front of him, placing her hands gently on his.

"Professor Snape." She said, gently, but firmly. "Wake up, Sir."

He jumped, his eyes snapping open and looking wildly around the room before settling on her. He was gasping for breath as if he'd just run several miles, trembling under her hands.

"Miss Delacour." He whispered hoarsely. "You should be in bed."

"So should you, Sir." Marie said, looking up at him. "Not in a chair, but in the bed with me. Please, Sir. I know that you don't trust me, but you need to sleep."

Trembling, he shook his head.

Marie frowned, her blue eyes darkening. She reached down, taking his hand, and tugged gently.

"Come on." She said. After a few more tugs, Severus got up, dropping the book on the seat of his armchair. Reluctantly, he followed her to the bedroom.

He offered only token resistance as she took his robes off, even allowing her to take his white shirt off, but stopping her when she put her hand on the waistband of his trousers.

"Don't." He rasped. "Please don't."

"Then you dress yourself for bed." Marie said, taking her hand away. "But you need to change into proper pajamas, not sleep in your clothing. You need to rest."

He picked up his pajamas, and shuffled off to the bathroom. After a few minutes, he returned to find her sitting on the bed waiting on him.

"I…I could transfigure a cot…" He began, his voice wavering slightly.

"No, you won't." Marie said, patting the bed on his side. "Get into bed."

He shook his head again, though he didn't move away. With an irritated sigh, she got up, moving around to him, gently taking his arm to pull him toward the bed.

"Professor, please come to bed." She pleaded. "You're exhausted. You need to sleep."

"No." He whispered, his voice weak and shaky as he put a hand on her shoulder in a feeble attempt to ward her off. Leading him to the bed, she gently turned him around and pushed him back, causing him to sit down on the bed.

"We can't do this." Severus said, looking up at her, his eyes pleading with her. "It's wrong. It wasn't your free choice…you are far too young…"

"It wasn't, that is true." She nodded. "But it is done. According to my mother, we have no choice now."

"No." He whispered, hanging his head, his cheeks burning with shame. "Please…"

"Yes." Marie said gently, pulling his head to her bosom, stroking his hair as if he were a frightened child, caught in the grip of a nightmare.

"No." Severus whispered faintly. "Miss Delacour…"

"My name is Marie." She whispered, lowering her head to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head, lingering for a moment to drink the smell of him in. "Say it."

Cedar, mint, bay rum, and wool, she mused, closing her eyes in pleasure. Mine.

"Miss…"

"Marie, Professor." She said, a bit more firmly. "Call me Marie."

"Miss Delacour…" Severus whispered, trembling as his eyes filled with tears. "…things like this…they aren't supposed to happen. It's wrong. You are far too young…"

"Shush, Professor." Marie said, gently brushing hair from his eyes. "Marie. My name is Marie. Say it."

"M-Marie…" He said, looking up at her, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Do not call me Professor. I…no longer deserve that."

"Severus." She said softly, and then lowered her lips to his.

ooOoo

She awoke that morning with his head on her shoulder, her arms around him as he slept, his breath tickling her neck slightly.

I'm not a virgin now, she thought, shifting her legs slightly and wincing. The bond is complete.

So what now?

She lay there in the bed for a long time, listening to the sounds of the castle, to his steady breathing as he lay close to her in the bed, just savoring the warmth of his skin against hers. Severus shifted slightly in his sleep, his hand curling around her waist, pulling himself closer to her. For a moment, he frowned, and then relaxed with a breathy sigh as she gently stroked his hair.

He's so starved for affection, she sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. I've never known someone like this, who flinches at the slightest physical contact, as if he's been beaten. He's so shy, so bitter, so withdrawn…so desperately lonely.

And now, we are bonded. According to what Mama told me, the bond cannot be broken. That there are things about it long forgotten, unknown even to Veela today, which are not fully understood.

I'm afraid now, for him.

Odd that now I know what he's doing; I feel no fear for myself, only for him.

He was my professor; how surreal is this, that he is now my lover?

I wish I could take this burden away from him.

I want to run away with him, far away, where the Dark Lord would never find us.

Silly of me to dream of such a thing.

He will stand and fight. He'll try to keep me safe, to keep all of us safe. He's like that.

He might die.

I…will end up like grandmother. The thought of it made her shiver slightly, remembering the stories her mother had told her about her grandparents.

I have to find some way to keep him alive. How can I protect him?

He must live.

He must.

I don't think I could bear it if he dies.

I must…protect him, somehow. But what can I do?

As she lay there watching his face, slowly, his eyes fluttered open, gradually focusing on her.

"Good morning." She said gently.

"Good…good morning." Severus said hesitantly, looking as if he wanted to flee.

"Did you sleep well?" Marie asked him, giving him a hug. "I slept very well."

"I…yes, I slept well." He replied.

"I need to go to the loo." She whispered, and then slipped out of the bed. It amused her that he averted his eyes from her nakedness, and she had to stifle a giggle.

ooOoo

April 25, 1995~

"So it is done." Not a question, but a statement.

"Yes." Severus said wearily, slumped in an armchair in the Headmaster's office.

"You look tired, my boy." Dumbledore said gently, waving to the house elf to bring some coffee.

Snape nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"As if I have smashed a Ming vase, Albus." Snape snapped irritably, glaring at him. "I robbed her of her innocence, ruined her life…and for what? So she might have a few days without pain? You know as well as I do, Albus, how likely it is that I will survive the coming war. What will happen to her?"

"You may yet live, Severus."

"The odds are heavily against it, Headmaster."

The silence lay heavily between them for several minutes. The double agent, stressed to the limit on one side; his handler on the other, both contemplating what lay ahead for both of them.

"What do you propose to do," Albus finally said, looking at him over his spectacles, "regarding your 'other duties'? Do you think she will be in danger?"

"All of us are in danger, Headmaster." Snape sighed. "She is a pureblood, and perhaps not in as much danger compared to a Muggleborn, but her Veela blood means that she has an abundance of elemental magic. Such a thing might be tempting to him. She has yet to choose a side, though we can assume she is either neutral at worst, or against the Dark Lord."

"How is she faring?"

"Poppy has checked her on a regular basis the past two days. Seems to be doing fine, I have had no contact with her, except in the classroom, and there has been no…physical contact of any kind."

"Do you think that the bond is helping her?"

"It would seem so." Severus said, rubbing his eyes again, and then taking a sip of his coffee.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, studying his dark Potions Professor.

"What?" Severus said irritably.

"I'm just concerned about you." Dumbledore said softly. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape hissed, his voice fairly dripping with sarcasm. "I'm having an affair with a student while I'm spying on the Dark Lord. At any given moment, my life, or my career as a Potions Master, or perhaps both, will come to a rather spectacular end. I spend most every waking hour walking a tightrope above an abyss, knowing full well that one false step could be the ruin of the Wizarding world. I'm just fine. Everything is wonderful."

"When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?"

"It was…two days ago, I suppose."

"When you last slept with Miss Delacour." Dumbledore said, noting Severus' flinch at the mention of her name.

"It doesn't matter how well I sleep, Headmaster." Severus snapped, a bitter edge to his voice. "Only that I perform my duties. Doesn't it?"

A soft knock at the door drew their attention.

"Enter." Dumbledore called out. The door opened, and Poppy came in, closing the door gently behind herself. Snape slumped in his chair, picking up his cup and idly swirling the dregs of his coffee as he scowled into the fire.

"Headmaster. Severus." She nodded to them, walking over to the couch.

"You have news for us?" Dumbledore asked, lifting the lid on his candy dish. "Butter rum crunch?"

"No, thank you, Albus." Poppy said, sitting down and smoothing out her skirts. "I just examined Marie. She had a…episode in her sixth period Arithmancy class."

"Is she alright?" Asked the Headmaster.

"She's resting quietly now, in the Hospital Wing."

Turning to Severus, Poppy pursed her lips for a moment, as if considering how she should put things.

"Severus, I think she'll need you tonight." She said, flinching slightly when Snape glared at her. "I don't judge, Severus. I deal with my patients, and their problems. There's no need to be so hateful."

ooOoo

At exactly nine o' clock, the flames in his fireplace turned green, and Marie stepped into his sitting room, brushing ash off of her robes. He was sitting in his favorite armchair reading, with a glass of firewhiskey on the table next to him.

"Good evening, Professor…" She began, and then faltered at the sharp look he gave her. "Um, sorry. Good evening, Severus."

"Good evening…Marie." He said, softening his gaze. "I heard you had…a problem today."

"I tried to hold out as long as I could, Sir." She said, blushing. "I really did. Sorry. I…I just…"

"It's alright." He said gently, closing his book and setting it aside. "You can't help this, remember."

"I'll…just put my things in the…bedroom." She said softly, her voice nervous and unsteady.

As she passed by him, she paused to take his hand, closing her eyes for a moment as the warmth flowed through her, easing her pain. As her knees sagged underneath her, she felt his other hand on her back, guiding her as she came to rest on his lap, dropping her overnight bag. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, blushing.

"I…I'm sorry, Sir." She stammered nervously. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright." He sighed. "It has been three days now, almost. I don't mind helping you."

Getting up, she went to the bedroom, feeling a bit better.

He sighed quietly, picking up the glass of firewhiskey to take a sip. He had scarcely raised it to his lips when he felt the Dark Mark on his arm begin to burn.

ooOoo

"Severus? It's almost eleven, are you coming to bed?"

Marie walked into the sitting room, frowning when she found it empty.

Then she saw the glass on the floor, the firewhiskey soaking into the Oriental rug. Her blue eyes widened, a cold terror gripping her heart.

Merlin, he's been summoned, she thought, struggling to calm herself down. He usually has more warning than this.

What has happened? Is he in danger?

Crossing the room to the fireplace, she took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the flames.

"Headmaster's quarters." She said nervously, taking her wand and vanishing the firewhiskey on the rug.

After a few minutes, the Headmaster's face appeared in the flames.

"Yes, Severus, what is it…" He blinked, and then smiled. "Oh, hello, Marie."

"Headmaster, he's gone." She blurted out, tucking her wand back into the pocket of her bathrobe. "He was summoned."

"Summoned?" Dumbledore said softly, his eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, dear."

"What should I do, Sir?"

"Stay there, for now. I'll notify Poppy." The Headmaster paused for a moment, and then sighed. "You may as well get dressed. I may need you to come with me."

After the Headmaster closed the connection, Marie fairly ran to the bedroom, her heart pounding. Shucking her bathrobe and nightgown, she quickly dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt, tugging an old jumper over her head. After putting on her trainers, she gathered her hair up in a single ponytail, tying it back with rubber band that she conjured.

Going back to the sitting room, she went to his favorite armchair and sat down, pulling her legs up in the chair with her.

Please, Merlin, let him be alright. Please.

With an anxious sigh, she began to wait.

ooOoo

"Over here, Marie."

Hearing the Headmaster's voice near the edge of the clearing ahead, she began to run toward the bobbing light at the end of Dumbledore's wand. She nearly tripped over Severus, who lay on the ground, curled up in his traveling cloak. The coppery smell of blood assaulted her nostrils, bringing forth a wave of nausea that she struggled to push away.

"Is he…" She sobbed, struggling to catch her breath. "Is he…Oh, Merlin…"

"No." Dumbledore said softly, waving his wand and casting a warming charm. "He is still alive, just not breathing very deeply. I believe it is due to the cold. See if you can get him to swallow some blood-replenishment potion."

"What about pain-relieving potion?" Marie asked, fumbling through the satchel she had slung on her shoulder for the needed vials.

"I fear that they have used Crucio on him…because of that, I fear that it won't do much good."

Fighting back her tears, she knelt, gently lifting his head to dribble blood-replenishment potion between his lips. He felt icy cold to her, with none of the usual warm feeling of relief washing over her body when she touched his skin. Instead, it was if she felt even worse, her pain flaring even more. Gritting her teeth against her own discomfort, she gently massaged his throat to make sure he swallowed the potion.

Dumbledore watched as she cared for him, assessing their one-sided interaction. With a sigh, he ran his wand over Severus again, carefully assessing the injuries.

"I think he's stable enough to take to the Hospital Wing." The Headmaster said gently. "Are you alright to apparate, dear? Do I need to come back to get you?"

"No, I'm fine." Marie said in an unsteady voice, her jaw set in determination. "Take him. I'll be right behind you."

ooOoo

He blinked, the morning sun painful to his eyes.

Hospital Wing. My usual room, it appears to be.

Good to be back home, I suppose.

Merlin, I'm so thirsty.

He flexed his fingers, noting that his right hand seemed rather warm. As his mind slowly cleared, he realized that someone was holding his hand. With a painful effort, he turned his head to the right, squinting to see more clearly.

Marie was slumped in a chair next to his bed, her head pillowed on her arms, her fingers interlaced with his. A reddish-brown stain marred her fair skin above her brow, where she had evidently carelessly wiped her hand on it. Similar stains decorated her fingernails, as well as the light gray jumper she was wearing.

He wiggled his fingers, attempting to free his hand.

With a gasp of fright, she sat up, her blue eyes wide and terrified.

"Severus!" She gasped, and then clapped her hand to her mouth, blushing at her carelessness. "Sorry, Sir."

"It's alright." He whispered softly, his throat feeling like it had been sandpapered.

Hesitantly, she smiled at him, and then rose from her chair, looking slightly dazed, and her face turning very pale.

"Marie?" He croaked, alarmed by the expression on her face.

To his horror, her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed, sliding to the floor, her chair tipping over with a clatter. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he turned on one side, hunting for the call bell, and rang it vigorously.

ooOoo

"How is she?" Dumbledore asked, walking briskly alongside Poppy.

"Stable. Albus, the poor girl's exhausted. She fainted shortly after Severus awakened; thank Merlin, he was awake and able to ring the call bell. She hit her head on the chair when she fell, so she has a slight concussion. I also had to close up a small cut on her scalp with my wand."

"I'll need to speak to him privately, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Albus." She replied.

The Medi-Witch pushed open the door to Severus' hospital room, holding it open for the Headmaster to enter, then left, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty hospital corridor. As a precaution, Dumbledore warded the door, and cast muffliatoto discourage any potential eavesdropping. He went to the foot of the bed, resting his hand on the bedframe as he looked down at the occupants of the bed.

Poppy had widened the bed, and had put Marie in it, on Severus' right side, which was not as badly injured. Her face was mostly hidden by her hair, her mouth slack as she slept deeply, using his shoulder as a pillow with her hand on his bare chest. After a moment, Severus opened his eyes.

"Hello…Albus." He said, his voice still weak and thin.

"Hello, Severus." Dumbledore said softly, sitting down in a chair beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." Snape said, with a wince as he shifted in the bed.

"I take it that your meeting with Tom went badly."

"Not that badly." He said, shaking his head. "Most of this…is due to Bellatrix. She was…angry that I refused to give Marie's name."

"Tom knows about Marie?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes widening in alarm.

"He does…I couldn't help it, Albus." Snape said, licking his lips to moisten them. "He…he was in my head much quicker than I anticipated, forcing his way in quite far before I could regain control."

"How much were we compromised?"

Snape grinned faintly, though his face was rather pale.

"In a way…" He replied, taking a moment to catch his breath, "It was a good thing that he ran across the memories of Marie and I. It…distracted him just long enough for me to rebuild my defenses. He learned nothing of importance, thank Merlin."

"What does he know of Marie? What did you have to tell him?"

"I told him…that I no longer enjoyed the revels." Snape said, hesitating a bit. "I told him that I had…seduced a student from a pureblood Wizarding family of good repute, to use as my personal plaything. That I had used imperius on her, forcing her to be with me against her will. Bellatrix was…angry that I said that I…would not be sharing Marie…at the revels. For now…the Dark Lord has declared her…off limits."

"Do you think he believed you?"

"I hope so."

"As soon as both of you have recovered, you need to reinforce this."

"Reinforce it?" Snape said, momentarily thrown off balance. "Are you mad?"

"Tom has spies within the castle walls, you know. It would be relatively easy to spread rumors among the students and staff about…your darker side."

"Absolutely not, Albus." Snape hissed, his eyes flashing with anger. "I cannot involve her in this—"

"You already have, Severus." The Headmaster said gently. "I'm not saying to actually mistreat the girl, just do enough, seen by the right people, that it will eventually find its way back to Tom."

"In other words, put on a show." The younger wizard said, frowning. "Make it appear as if I am…abusing her."

"Exactly."

"Albus, I…I don't know if I can do this."

"You must. Would you rather be forced to prove it at a revel?"

Snape shuddered at the thought, unconsciously pulling Marie closer. Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted slightly at this, though he carefully pretended not to notice it.

"If I do such a thing," Snape said softly. "Do you think she will be safe?"

"As safe as she can be, Severus." Dumbledore sighed. "I would suggest that you not speak to anyone of this, except for Miss Delacour. I would also recommend giving her some training in Occulmency, just to be on the safe side."

"Poppy and Minerva will be furious with me."

"Yes."

"Filus, too."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Continue with the idea that you put her under imperius to seduce her. Allow the students to see enough that it finds its way back to him. Perhaps Tom will be happy enough to let things stand as they are…and will no longer expect your participation in revels."

"One would hope so." Severus frowned.

For a while, they sat there in silence, until the Headmaster noticed Snape looking longingly at the pitcher of water on the bedside table.

"Ah! Forgive me, Severus." Dumbledore said, rising to get a glass and fill it with cool water from the pitcher.

Holding it carefully to Severus' mouth, he conjured a straw to help his Potions professor drink.

"So what happened to her, Albus?" Severus said, once he was able to speak again.

"I believe that the bond," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard, "is acting as a conduit for magic between you two. The potion that Miss Hargrove slipped to Marie reacted with her Veela blood, and caused her condition, and also caused her to unconsciously bond with you. That explains the rune, though not its meaning. Touching you allows your magic to flow to her, easing her pain.

"However, when you were injured, the bond acted in reverse, causing her magic to flow to you, healing your injuries. She lost consciousness because her magic was drained so rapidly. In a sense, she willingly gave her strength to you to heal you, at tremendous cost to herself."

"Is there…any permanent harm?" Snape asked softly, glancing down at Marie, who still slept soundly.

"I don't think so." Dumbledore said. "I'm going to check with her mother, who seems to know more than anyone else I've spoken with on this matter. She was the one who was able to tell me about the healing properties of the bond. Helene told me that her mother and father could not so much as cut a finger chopping potions ingredients without it being healed almost instantly."

"Sounds like a good thing."

"Mind you, Severus, that was after nearly thirty years. The bond grows stronger with time."

"Tell me, Albus," Severus said softly, "Speaking of time…what will happen to her if I die?"

Dumbledore frowned, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Honestly, Severus…I do not know. I would assume…that the bond would weaken."

"And if it weakens, so…so will she." Snape said softly.

Marie shifted, murmuring softly in her sleep as she snuggled closer to Severus. He glanced down at her for a moment, and then looked back at the Headmaster.

"For her sake, we must find a cure for this," Severus said, "and if possible, find a way to break the bond. I will not have her suffer the same fate as her grandmother, if I can help it."

"You may survive."

"Please, Albus." Snape sneered. "Spare me your childish optimism. We both know how unlikely that is."

"Slim odds are better than nothing, Severus."

"All the same, we must find a cure for her, and some way to ensure that she survives."

ooOoo

Author notes~

Ma chérie (Fr.) "My darling"

Ma bichette (Fr.) "My little doe (endearment used with young girls)

Connard (Fr.) asshole

Charonge (Fr.) Lit., "carrion", another way to say "bastard"

Ta gueule! (Fr.) Shut up! (Rudest way to say it)

J'ai eu assez de cela! (Fr.) I have had enough of this!

Fils de pute (Fr.) Son of a bitch

Va te faire foutre, trouduc! (Fr.) Go f*ck yourself, asshole!

Steganography: the practice of concealing messages or information within other non-secret text.