20 – The Messenger

The months passed at an unseen rate, the familiar routine of: eat, sleep, and work taking over.

There was no need to see Belby anymore. Thank Circe. The last few months with him had been unbearable, his arrogance and condescension seething every time we met. Our work together was mercifully done.

Remus came by the lab for his potion every month, not wanting me to go to the Shrieking Shack, fearing that it would open old wounds. Our relationship was mending slowly, and the physical connection that had been born from a mutual need was fading, gradually growing into an understanding friendship. We occasionally met for lunch and would spend that time talking. I missed his steady demeanour, his easy laugh, and his company, and hoped that our friendship would continue.

The work at John Radcliffe Hospital was progressing well. There were now several patients eager to try the new, test treatment, and the Oncology department was stunned by the source of the research. Although the treatment wasn't a cure, it certainly made life easier for the recipient. The original doctors and the patient whom I had dealt with during the first year were encouraging and willing to support my work. My reputation in the Muggle medical world was growing.

Professor Cornwall met with me frequently and even though the lab on campus had been assigned strictly for my use for the duration of the doctorate, he granted me unlimited access. The labs were usually sealed by ten o'clock, but knowing that I tended to stay well into the night when I was on a roll, he issued a security pass to ensure that I would have the freedom to come and go as I pleased. This made life for me both easier and more difficult. Pinky had taken to hunting me down occasionally to make sure that I ate.

Professor Kurtz kept a close eye on me as well. He was a strange one, but I sensed that he was just looking for companionship, someone who didn't ridicule him and who wasn't afraid of him, someone who he could talk with but who wasn't a colleague or student. One day, he had surprised me by arriving with a packed lunch from a small deli on High Street. I took a few moments away from the research to sit and enjoy his company as we ate. That in itself, was a reprieve for both of us and would have shocked anyone who saw.

Emily and Colin were married in September at the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, on campus, and I was one of nearly two hundred guests in attendance. I was surprised at the number of people, and when Emily confided that she didn't know half of them; I questioned why they had been invited. She shrugged with a smile, "family and family friends". In all honesty, I had never been to a wedding before, either Muggle or Wizard and couldn't wrap my brain around the opulence, pomp and pageantry of the whole short procedure. It seemed like a waste of money and energy. When she questioned me about my wedding, I didn't know what to say. It had just been Severus and me, and it wasn't even a handfasting. How could I explain the blessing of the Goddess? What happened had been unexpected and very spiritual. And, although we had called each other husband and wife, in reality, it had never been sanctioned by the Ministry or by a priestess. We merely recognized it ourselves. In our hearts, we were married, but technically…?

At the end of September, Albus and I had met in the safe house in Cumberland. Things in Europe looked calm, and Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. School had begun, and he was pre-occupied with getting things settled. This led our conversation to Severus. I hadn't heard from him since the Wolfsbane unveiling in July and had no idea where he had spent the rest of the summer. Even Stark went in search of him to no avail. Albus reassured that he was fine and needed some time to get his thoughts sorted out. He was reluctant in issuing the next bit of information but felt he needed to prepare me. Severus had renewed his alliance with Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy's wealth and position had saved him from Azkaban, and he had been leading a quiet life being the master of his small family but was now beginning to flex his muscle again. Severus wanted to re-establish the link, knowing that Malfoy's ambition and interest in the Dark Arts would resurface eventually. Albus and Severus wanted to be prepared. My stomach turned.

Candles shimmered in the fading light of the late October afternoon casting shadows that stretched across the plush, round rug in the centre of the sparse room. The table that served as a desk was strewn with papers, notes, and textbooks of various sizes and ages. A half-eaten tomato sandwich had been pushed aside, and the plate teetered on the edge. I was completely immersed in the work, as usual, another thought taking form as ingredient qualities and possible combinations were scratched out. This potion had to work without magic so that a Muggle team of scientists could reproduce it. The end of my pen tapped my chin as I thought.

A low caw drew my attention from the notes to the window. Since the summer, it seemed that my home had become Stark's home. When the weather was fine, he was able to come and go as he pleased, but now that the weather was turning cold, I had to keep the window closed, and he had to get my attention in order to get in and out. I stretched as I rose, rotating my wrist and shoulders to relieve the cramp. I'd been writing for hours. Crossing the room, I opened the window to let my feathered friend in on a gust of cold air. Perching on the inner ledge, he ruffled his feathers and spread his wings, welcoming the warmth.

"And, where have you been?" I asked with an amused smile as I offered him a crust of the sandwich, and stroked his sleek, black head.

He rubbed his beak across my finger, then flew to the cluttered table to retrieve another bite. I chuckled at the familiarity of the creature. When he was done, he perched on the back of my padded chair while I sat on the edge of the bed. He seemed almost annoyed.

You know where he is. Why don't you contact him? Stark asked sounding like an exasperated child.

"It's complicated," I explained aloud.

No, it's not. I see owls flying in and out of the castle on the hill all the time. You're smart. You can think of a reason to send him a note.

"As you see, I don't have an owl." I waved my hand around the room, making an excuse.

Stark craned his neck upward and ruffled his feathers again, balancing on the back of the chair; he expended his left leg forward.

Go ahead. Do it, he offered as if he were suffering a great indignity. I'll take the message.

I laughed as he lost his balance and comically fell backward, flying to the table to regain his composure. Renewing the stance, he held his leg out again, beak held arrogantly high.

"You'd really do it?" I asked thoughtfully through the chuckles.

Stark cawed lowly and dipped his head as if to nod.

"Okay, we'll use this as a test run and see what happens. But, you must be aware, the reason that we're not together is to keep each other safe. We have jobs that have put each other in danger in the past and neither of us want to go through that again."

Stark planted both of his feet back on the table and nodded in return. I'll be careful, and I'll wait for a response…unless he shoos me away. You know, he's not very nice.

I grinned and nodded. "He is with me, and if you do this, I think you may see another side of him eventually."

Stark waited patiently while I penned a quick note to Severus. He took the note in his beak before I re-opened the window for him to leave, and as he sat on the ledge, ready to launch, I stroke his back and whispered for him to "be careful". He nudged my hand gently, and as I opened the window, he let the autumn wind gust under his wings as he headed north.

I could only imagine Severus' reaction as Stark arrived at breakfast the following morning. The composure of the High Table was surely disrupted with the arrival of a young, inexperienced carrier raven amongst the morning post owls. It probably drew the attention of many students, as well, that the "dungeon bat", as he had confided to me during the summer, would receive any sort of mail. I could just see the scowl on Severus' face as Stark landed in front of him, dropping the missive onto his plate, and waiting expectantly for a reply. Severus didn't know that Stark was mine. I would have loved to see his expression as he read the note.

Trial run number one.

Testing one, two, three.

Did you get the message?

D

I know it sounded silly, but it also seemed harmless, just in case it didn't get through.

Stark returned later that night with a scrap of parchment in his beak.

Message received.

S

The midnight moon was high, and the circle was cast in a barren space among the grand monoliths of Callanish on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides. A cold breeze blew around the ancient structure creating small whirlwinds resembling miniature tornados. I had returned to this spot each year that I had been in England, almost out of instinct. This was the site and night of my conception, and tonight, I felt a great power surge. It was Samhain – Halloween – the major of the major Sabbats, and the most powerful night in Wiccan lore for magick.

I placed crystals in the elemental positions, lit the candles, and pushed the heavy cloak from my shoulders ready to begin. Standing in the centre of the circle wearing only a thick black robe and black, leather ankle boots, my wand was raised high, pointing to the glimmering moon, invoking the Goddess and the God, and welcoming the Elemental Guardians to join me for this rite.

Stretching my arms to the heavens, I opened myself to the influence of the ancients, seeking the wisdom from those who had gone before. I looked for reassurance and guidance that all would be well and that what I did with my life was right and true. A yellow-white aura began to form around the edge of the circle, and I could feel the energy surround me, encompassing me in the globe. The wind suddenly died, and an eerie stillness settled before a sudden gust surged and whirled, stirring the dust from the ground into a thin funnel that reached to the top of the dome. Specks of light scattered on the current, forming images that I slowly began to recognize: my parents. Neither spoke as the dust and light particles whirled around me in soothing comfort, but I felt it. They were proud. I was filled with such a depth of emotions that I felt that my soul would burst.

As the wind died and the dust settled, I collapsed to my knees, thanking the deities and guardians for always watching over me, and thanking the ancients for allowing my parents to surface. I was exhausted yet elated. It had been a long time since I had felt such a connection. Staying in that position for a while, I mediated, blessing those who had passed before, and welcoming events to come, knowing that I would have guidance.

The frosty glow of dawn began to break on the horizon before I began to stir. The ancient energies that were absorbed gave me a renewed strength. I was ready to face anything.

Apparating back to the dorm, I found Stark perched on the window ledge. Hastily scribbling a note, I gave it to the bird to deliver. After a quick shower, I crawled under the warm covers of my bed, drifting into a sound sleep.

Rain pelted the frozen landscape as I sloshed my way through the fenced-in yard to the heavy, wooden, back door. The house was dark and well-warded, but my passwords still worked, having never been changed. The door creaked slightly as it opened, and I entered the cold kitchen, dusting the cobwebs from the doorframe with my hand, and placing a small, cloth grocery bag on the table. It looked like no one had entered since my last visit in September.

The first "Lumos" lit the small chandelier over the kitchen table, and the second, the wall sconces in the hallway that led to the sitting room. I set some logs in the fireplace and cast "Incendio", the heat from the fire quickly staving off the dampness and cold. Glancing at my watch, I noted that I was on time.

I couldn't believe that my directness had worked. Stark returned from his journey with a sealed parchment held proudly in his beak. The message was cryptic, but to me, easily decipherable.

SH

FN 9

S

Safe House, Friday Night, 9 pm, Severus.

I made myself a cup of tea, unpacked the groceries, and curled up in one of the over-sized armchairs in the sitting room to wait, listening to the rain strike the small, paned windows.

The clock above the mantle chimed the hour: ten o'clock. Severus was late. I flipped through an old tome from the bookcase, patiently waiting.

The mantle clock chimed again. I must have dozed off. Eleven o'clock. I stirred the fire and added another log, pulling an old blanket around me as I sat. I was beginning to feel abandoned.

Startling awake again at the disturbance of the wards, I aimed my wand at the doorway, just in case. Severus stalked in, his cloak dripping from the rain, his hair plastered to his face. He was fuming.

"Put that thing down," he ordered sharply. "It's me."

He whipped off his cloak and hung it on a hook by the fireplace. Warming his hands above the flames, I could see him take several deep breaths.

"Rough day?" I asked innocently.

"It's not easy for me to get away," he hissed. "I'm head of Slytherin House. I have duties beyond classes. I can't just disappear without warning."

"Is that why you're late?" I questioned again.

He eyed me angrily over his left shoulder, his greasy, black hair hanging limply over his forehead, his scowl deeper than I'd ever seen. His back was poker straight as he turned and stood in front of the fire, facing me.

"I'm late because Gryffindor and Slytherin are rivals, and they seem to delight in attacking each other at every opportunity. Professor McGonagall interrupted a hexing match between several students after dinner and insisted that I deal with my House immediately."

He paced toward the middle of the room and stopped before the other armchair. I rose and approached cautiously. Standing in front of him, I gently tugged the waist of his frock coat urging him to sit. He resisted. Watching me suspiciously as I began to unbutton the long row of fastenings, he stiffly allowed me to push the coat from his shoulders and finally guide him to the chair. He flopped down with an obvious sense of relief that belied his outer demeanour.

I moved behind him and gently pushed him forward slightly. Rubbing hands together and breathing deeply, I felt the healing power emerge. Starting at the base of his scull, I slowly ran my thumbs down his spine from his neck to the middle of his back, shaking out the negative energy. I repeated this gesture several times, increasing the pressure slightly with each movement. Spanning my hands across his shoulder blades, I began to massage the tension from his back and shoulders. He was one big knot. Slowly, his rigid posture crumbled, and he slumped forward, elbows on his knees.

"I'd forgotten how good you are at that," he muttered as his head fell forward with a low groan.

I smiled. "Would you do something for me?" I asked gently.

He groaned again in response.

"Could you please take off that horrid charm? I want to see the real you."

Reaching for his abandoned coat, he retrieved his wand from the sleeve and slowly raised it to his chest, casting "Finite Incantatum". His hair remained lank, a result of being in a Potions classroom all day, but his other features softened.

I smiled again as I felt him begin to relax under my touch.

Gradually sitting straighter, he reached his left hand to his right shoulder to stop the massage, grasping my right hand and tugging me around the side of the chair. As I emerged at his right, his free arm reached up and hooked around my hip, turning me and pulling me onto his lap, my legs dangling across the cushioned arm. His smile was tired as he placed a chaste kiss on my lips, and I sat cradled in his arms for several silent minutes.

"Are you hungry?" I finally broke the silence.

He shook his head. "Your note said that we needed to talk."

I nodded. "I think you're too tired to talk. I hope you don't have to be back tonight."

"No," he replied. "I let Albus know that I'd be out for the evening, but Slytherin versus Ravenclaw in Quidditch tomorrow morning. I have to be there."

"Early?"

"No."

"Good." I snuggled closer, enjoying the warmth and comfort as the icy rain battered the small, stone house. "We can talk in the morning, if you like."

He gave a non-committal grunt as the heat from the fire and the quiet of the house eased his frayed nerves.

After a time and with a reluctant groan, I heaved myself off the worn-out man and reached for his hand, pulling him to his feet, and leading him down the hallway to my old bedroom. A quick "Scourigify" eradicated the dust and cobwebs as we removed our outer clothing and climbed into bed in our knickers. Shivering between the cold sheets, we sought each other for warmth, and sleep quickly found us.

"Why is it that I always fall asleep when I'm with you?" Severus mused while buttering a stack of toast. "I've never needed much sleep, that's why I patrol the halls at night. But with you… do you cast some spell on me that I don't recognize?"

"Maybe," I wagged my eyebrows at him as I flipped the eggs from the frying pan onto the plates, chuckling as I joined him at the table. "No," I relented. "I think you're just comfortable with me. I know you and you don't have to work at pretending to be someone else."

He "hmmed" as he placed a rasher of bacon onto my plate. "What is it you wanted to talk about?" he began knowing that time was short.

"I know that you have responsibilities at school, and you know that I have obligations to get my schooling finished, but I want to see you occasionally, and I was hoping that you felt the same. There has to be a way to work it out."

He gazed silently into his breakfast. "My position will always be precarious, and I don't want you to get hurt." I could see memories clouding his eyes.

Reaching across the table and placing my hand over his, I gave it a slight squeeze. "I know about Malfoy, and I'm not talking about moving in together. I'm talking about seeing each other, maybe meeting here once in a while. We need each other in order to stay balanced. Caro, you're my other half. What do you think?"

"I think that the past few years without you have been the most miserable of my life. I would like to try to work something out, and as this is already a "safe house", maybe it could work. By the way, where did you get the bird?"

I smiled. "He found me."

Severus' eyes widened in shock and surprise, expecting the worst. I held my hand up to stop the impending reprimand.

"Fear not, I've already checked. He's not an Animagus, nor is he "working" for someone else. I first spotted him in Tuscany, above Saxon's grave. I saw him again in Syria. You were there, too, the bird over the water," I reminded. "He followed me to Oxford." I shook my head remembering. "There's something about him. I feel a bond somehow, and he wants us together."

"Funny, I felt a bond, too. I couldn't place it or explain it," Severus said thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because he's a link to you."

I shrugged nibbling the toast.

Severus left the safe house before I did. Quidditch was waiting. We had agreed to keep in touch and meet when we could, but there was also a clear understanding that work came first and safety was an issue. It would always be.