Disclaimer: I do not own the Wizarding World or any of it's inhabitants, including my Emperor. My own visions as to their future or unmentioned personalities are derived from the books, although I wish Vector was mine, although he is my impression of him. ALL OF THE THINGS YOU RECOGNIZE FROM HARRY POTTER ARE JK ROWLINGS! NOT MINE! ...*sigh* Good. So stop pissing me off.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Prelude of a Requiem
"Severus." Poppy said gravely. "She's been calling your name again." Her features were lined with worry, both for her strange young patient and the man whom she was addressing at such a pressing time. Though the catastrophic wars of revolutionary between the dark and light wizards had passed, and easily too, the aftermath had laid heavy shadows on the man who had served as a spy in the wars and those prior, before they had fully hit the Eye, informally recounted as the ten years of Harry Potter's life between one and eleven, when he had known no wizards, nor of the existence of their world. For a brief second, her eyes had flashed with concern at the thought of young Professor Potter, the deputy Headmaster. She shuddered slightly with the idea, but sighed, drawing out a long heavy breath. The young man had been rash and immediate in his decision that Severus had indeed harmed the girl, or at least broken her heart. Seeing the torn, shattered figure and the fragments of her personage-- or worse, hearing her racking sobs-- was enough to make anyone sob. Only Severus Snape remained dispassionate, ignorant of her horrific screams of not pain, but hatred and sorrow, and worst of all, her cries of loss as he stalked the hallways these nights before the beginning of the school year began. The elderly healer sighed, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. The soft, almost incoherent calming moans of the girl as she wrapped her scarred body in blankets was a bit disturbing, especially the idea that her once-frequent visitor could have loved the girl… no, no, that wasn't right. It was quite easy to believe he had loved the girl. He denied being within an ocean's proximity of her prior to the first time he entered the Hospital Wing, and her gaze was tortured and tormented at the sight or memory of him. She would fall silent, tears streaming down her face. What did she say her name was? Lost in thought, Ms. Pomfrey almost missed the quiet comment replied by her companion.
"I don't even know her name, Poppy." He said quietly, harshly. Inside, he was torn. He might definitely have raped the girl or seduced her under the Imperius curse, but he didn't remember it. Touching her flesh, watching her… none of it stirred anything. Furthermore, he had no idea how he would have been concernedwith a muggle… or why, if he had, Voldemort would've cared. She was an oddity, brought by Minerva in thedark of the night, taken pity on because of the Headmistress's own memories. It seemed Tom Riddle had forever left a scar on her, but then again, hadn't he left a scar on the Potions Master himself? Immediately, he shoved the thought away, but he absently rubbed the scar on his arm. Flinching, he remained silent. "Are you sure she hasn't just been reading that idiot squib's works and getting ideas?" He asked. "That's one of the few ways she would have heard of the wizarding world anyways."
"Rowling is not an ordinary squib, nor is she stupid, nor can I believe that her impression of you would have given anyone romantic ideals about you. Don't be stupid, Severus. This girl knows YOU. YOUR face, not Adam Slickman's or whoever the hell that muggle actor was who played in her… oh, what are they called-"
"Films, Poppy, films." Arthur Weasley, head of Muggle Relations, walked up quietly from behind her. He had personally made himself responsible for the girl after seeing what had happened and hearing from McGonagall. "And her name is Cassiel, by the way. Indeed, the Archangel of Tears, if I remember Catholicism correctly, which brings me to my next subject." Snape sneered, his nostrils flaring slightly. "She has lost all of her memory, Severus, but she remembers feeling love for you.-" He ignored Severus' pointed glare even as the man began to speak. "Don't give me that look, Professor Snape. She will begin remembering if she's around you more often, and if Flitwick and Vector can unravel the spells that are trapping her memory. Rather than erase it, someone only covered it with a Mental-Masking Charm. That mea-"
"I know what that means, Arthur." Severus snapped, his gaze dark and brooding. "Must Leonard Vector be involved?" He asked, his snap sharp, despite that the question itself had the slight taint of a child's whining complaints. Leonard Vector was an attractive man, graying slightly through his tawny hair and hawk-like beak with sharp, intelligent gold eyes. It was not surprising that he was registered as a Golden Eagle animagus… although he struck more as a griffin, arrogant, ruffled, and disdainful, but for some reason loved by all of his intelligent students. Vector instinctively trusted Snape, which set him off guard, but he also believed that Snape was not internally strong enough to fight off himself. The Potions Master had all cause to feel off-guard around the man, and he did. A powerful wizard with the wand, where Severus could match him more closely with brewery.
"Yes, he must. There's some complex Arithmancy involved, along with an ancient language he's studied extensively."
"You mean Latin? That's a muggle language, and though it forms a base for all spells, it's never used thoroughly. Besides. All of the Professors but Flitwick, Sprout, and Potter have studied it. What is there that we haven't encountered?" The Potions Master counted with vague annoyance. "McGonagall could do it, or I could…"
"It's heavily in-depth with Catholicism. Vector is muggle-born and studies the faith religiously." Mr. Weasley said gravely. "He has more insight to it. Apparently, the wizard who performed the Charm sealed it with an uncannily Hitler-like antic; He used her religion to seal her fate."
Recalling Hitler's mass-murder, taken directly from the chapter Revelations in the bible, what with the fire and the "Mark of the Beast", he nodded. With an inward groan, he had insight to another twist of cruelty. "This means that he name was used as a keystone, Weasley?" He questioned, his voice silky and almost silent. "Everyone will be using it in the hallways, sealing the charms further. Speaking of which, how are you going to explain her to the students? I assume the department's keeping it under control?" He hissed viciously. To his surprise, Arthur's reply was cold, and prepared. "We're waking her tomorrow. We're asking her to spend the remaining week with you, Severus, to learn to control herself. She's going to be the Professor of Muggle History, since she was a History Professor in the muggle world as well. You are going to be responsible for controlling her, but if I hear of a Tranquilizing Agent being slipped into her Pumpkin Juice, I will personally train her and have Minerva cut you from your position." He held up his hand before the man. "Severus, I mean this. You will curb her if it takes anything, so long as you don't harm her any more than you already have or haven't."
Severus's lips formed a thin white quivering line as they twitched with uncertainty. "What if she refuses to comply?"
"If all else fails, I'm sure she will respond to affection. Don't bother with affronts, they make her unbearable, as I believe you've already seen." Before Severus could reply, the older man disappeared. The girl was no more than twenty-three, and he was encroaching on forty, and had remained apathetic towards everyone, let alone anyone who wasn't young enough to have been his student. Nevertheless, the Potions Professor could find nothing to say to Poppy Pomfrey. Cassiel Forrester, an American muggle, would no longer be the Mediwitch's ward, but his.
Would that all of the girl's Catholic muggle gods and the ones he had forsaken long ago be with him, if he had to feign affection or love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Read and review!! Next Chapter will be longer, it recounts more than a few moments of speech...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Prelude of a Requiem
"Severus." Poppy said gravely. "She's been calling your name again." Her features were lined with worry, both for her strange young patient and the man whom she was addressing at such a pressing time. Though the catastrophic wars of revolutionary between the dark and light wizards had passed, and easily too, the aftermath had laid heavy shadows on the man who had served as a spy in the wars and those prior, before they had fully hit the Eye, informally recounted as the ten years of Harry Potter's life between one and eleven, when he had known no wizards, nor of the existence of their world. For a brief second, her eyes had flashed with concern at the thought of young Professor Potter, the deputy Headmaster. She shuddered slightly with the idea, but sighed, drawing out a long heavy breath. The young man had been rash and immediate in his decision that Severus had indeed harmed the girl, or at least broken her heart. Seeing the torn, shattered figure and the fragments of her personage-- or worse, hearing her racking sobs-- was enough to make anyone sob. Only Severus Snape remained dispassionate, ignorant of her horrific screams of not pain, but hatred and sorrow, and worst of all, her cries of loss as he stalked the hallways these nights before the beginning of the school year began. The elderly healer sighed, her eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. The soft, almost incoherent calming moans of the girl as she wrapped her scarred body in blankets was a bit disturbing, especially the idea that her once-frequent visitor could have loved the girl… no, no, that wasn't right. It was quite easy to believe he had loved the girl. He denied being within an ocean's proximity of her prior to the first time he entered the Hospital Wing, and her gaze was tortured and tormented at the sight or memory of him. She would fall silent, tears streaming down her face. What did she say her name was? Lost in thought, Ms. Pomfrey almost missed the quiet comment replied by her companion.
"I don't even know her name, Poppy." He said quietly, harshly. Inside, he was torn. He might definitely have raped the girl or seduced her under the Imperius curse, but he didn't remember it. Touching her flesh, watching her… none of it stirred anything. Furthermore, he had no idea how he would have been concernedwith a muggle… or why, if he had, Voldemort would've cared. She was an oddity, brought by Minerva in thedark of the night, taken pity on because of the Headmistress's own memories. It seemed Tom Riddle had forever left a scar on her, but then again, hadn't he left a scar on the Potions Master himself? Immediately, he shoved the thought away, but he absently rubbed the scar on his arm. Flinching, he remained silent. "Are you sure she hasn't just been reading that idiot squib's works and getting ideas?" He asked. "That's one of the few ways she would have heard of the wizarding world anyways."
"Rowling is not an ordinary squib, nor is she stupid, nor can I believe that her impression of you would have given anyone romantic ideals about you. Don't be stupid, Severus. This girl knows YOU. YOUR face, not Adam Slickman's or whoever the hell that muggle actor was who played in her… oh, what are they called-"
"Films, Poppy, films." Arthur Weasley, head of Muggle Relations, walked up quietly from behind her. He had personally made himself responsible for the girl after seeing what had happened and hearing from McGonagall. "And her name is Cassiel, by the way. Indeed, the Archangel of Tears, if I remember Catholicism correctly, which brings me to my next subject." Snape sneered, his nostrils flaring slightly. "She has lost all of her memory, Severus, but she remembers feeling love for you.-" He ignored Severus' pointed glare even as the man began to speak. "Don't give me that look, Professor Snape. She will begin remembering if she's around you more often, and if Flitwick and Vector can unravel the spells that are trapping her memory. Rather than erase it, someone only covered it with a Mental-Masking Charm. That mea-"
"I know what that means, Arthur." Severus snapped, his gaze dark and brooding. "Must Leonard Vector be involved?" He asked, his snap sharp, despite that the question itself had the slight taint of a child's whining complaints. Leonard Vector was an attractive man, graying slightly through his tawny hair and hawk-like beak with sharp, intelligent gold eyes. It was not surprising that he was registered as a Golden Eagle animagus… although he struck more as a griffin, arrogant, ruffled, and disdainful, but for some reason loved by all of his intelligent students. Vector instinctively trusted Snape, which set him off guard, but he also believed that Snape was not internally strong enough to fight off himself. The Potions Master had all cause to feel off-guard around the man, and he did. A powerful wizard with the wand, where Severus could match him more closely with brewery.
"Yes, he must. There's some complex Arithmancy involved, along with an ancient language he's studied extensively."
"You mean Latin? That's a muggle language, and though it forms a base for all spells, it's never used thoroughly. Besides. All of the Professors but Flitwick, Sprout, and Potter have studied it. What is there that we haven't encountered?" The Potions Master counted with vague annoyance. "McGonagall could do it, or I could…"
"It's heavily in-depth with Catholicism. Vector is muggle-born and studies the faith religiously." Mr. Weasley said gravely. "He has more insight to it. Apparently, the wizard who performed the Charm sealed it with an uncannily Hitler-like antic; He used her religion to seal her fate."
Recalling Hitler's mass-murder, taken directly from the chapter Revelations in the bible, what with the fire and the "Mark of the Beast", he nodded. With an inward groan, he had insight to another twist of cruelty. "This means that he name was used as a keystone, Weasley?" He questioned, his voice silky and almost silent. "Everyone will be using it in the hallways, sealing the charms further. Speaking of which, how are you going to explain her to the students? I assume the department's keeping it under control?" He hissed viciously. To his surprise, Arthur's reply was cold, and prepared. "We're waking her tomorrow. We're asking her to spend the remaining week with you, Severus, to learn to control herself. She's going to be the Professor of Muggle History, since she was a History Professor in the muggle world as well. You are going to be responsible for controlling her, but if I hear of a Tranquilizing Agent being slipped into her Pumpkin Juice, I will personally train her and have Minerva cut you from your position." He held up his hand before the man. "Severus, I mean this. You will curb her if it takes anything, so long as you don't harm her any more than you already have or haven't."
Severus's lips formed a thin white quivering line as they twitched with uncertainty. "What if she refuses to comply?"
"If all else fails, I'm sure she will respond to affection. Don't bother with affronts, they make her unbearable, as I believe you've already seen." Before Severus could reply, the older man disappeared. The girl was no more than twenty-three, and he was encroaching on forty, and had remained apathetic towards everyone, let alone anyone who wasn't young enough to have been his student. Nevertheless, the Potions Professor could find nothing to say to Poppy Pomfrey. Cassiel Forrester, an American muggle, would no longer be the Mediwitch's ward, but his.
Would that all of the girl's Catholic muggle gods and the ones he had forsaken long ago be with him, if he had to feign affection or love.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Read and review!! Next Chapter will be longer, it recounts more than a few moments of speech...
