The Mark of a New Man
Deidra had been so focused on the spell she was trying to perform that she didn't notice Severus's weakening state until it was too late. Before she could pull back his weight gave way and he fell to the floor unconscious, taking her with him. She pulled herself up from the floor and looked down at Severus's limp form. Kneeling down next to him, Deidra shook him violently, trying to revive him.
"Severus, Severus, wake up, oh wake up damn it!" Feeling at a loss Deidra did the first thing which came to her mind, which was to raise her left hand and strike him hard in the face. But a moment after, when he started to respond to her ministrations, she deeply regretted her actions. As he tried, feebly to lift himself into a sitting position he faltered, and Deidra put her hands behind his shoulders to support him.
Now coming fully awake, Severus shook his head vigorously to try and clear it. Then he raised his right hand up to his face and ran it along his cheek where a red patch was already growing. "Jesus, first you try to burn my arm off, and then you beat on me to boot. I'm beginning to question you feelings Ms. Dumbledore." Severus leaned back against the nearest desk and tried to catch his breath.
"Oh Severus I'm sorry, I didn't know you would respond like that, and then when you wouldn't come around I didn't know what else to do, so I slapped you." She reached out and touched his cheek, which was now bright red and bore a mark similar to that of her hand, she winced. "I also didn't know I hit you that hard."
"Well take my word for it, you did." Severus said shaking his head again. "What were you trying to do to me anyway? Why was my arm burning?" Deidra smiled then; her mask of concern was dropped to reveal a face full of joyful pride. "Look and see," she said.
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Severus wasn't really in the mood for Deidra's games, but he also felt to tired to fight her. So he gingerly lifted his left arm and pulled back the sleeve, afraid of what he would see. He knew Deidra would never intentionally hurt him. But that burn he'd felt on his arm had been very intense, and he had no idea what it might have done to his skin. But nothing that had crossed his mind came anywhere close to what he found when he'd pushed his sleeve all the way back.
Where his dark mark had been only moments ago, was nothing but clean skin and a small red blemish which might be found on anyone's arm. He gasped in surprise. Ever since he'd realized that he'd made a grave mistake my joining the Death Eaters he'd thought that that mark would haunt him until he died. Worse than any criminal record he'd spent most of his life trying to hid it. Wishing every spare moment that he could be rid of it. That he could truly show people he'd changed.
He remembered the cold, disdainful looks he'd gotten when he'd joined the Hogwarts staff. Dumbledore had had to tell them, and any time he had to push his sleeves up to work he was exposed to anyone's wandering eyes. He'd tried scratching, cutting, even burning, but nothing touched the mark. It had been burned into him to the bone and there was no known spell or cure to remove it.
At this last thought he looked up at Deidra. She too had been looking at his arm and now she tentatively ran her fingernails along the path of his veins, from his wrist up to his elbow and back. Feeling his eyes on her she looked up into his eyes.
"How?" he barely managed to whisper, "How could you do this, what did you do?"
Deidra exhaled deeply and continued to run her fingers along the path of his arm. When she didn't answer her caught her hand in his and turned it over to examine the palm. He traced the lines of her palm with his fingers over and over, as if some how he would find the answer to the miracle she'd just performed woven into her hand somewhere.
After a few moments he stopped and she let her hand drop. She still hadn't responded and her face had become a mask that he couldn't understand. Finally her couldn't stand it any longer. He reached out the distance between them and grasped her shoulders firmly in his hands. He shook her, as though he might be able to somehow shake the answer out of her.
She brought her hands up and covered his with them. "You know, you're not the only one who got drained from that." He stopped then, but left his hands on her shoulders.
Squaring her shoulders so she had to look directly at him her tried again, "Deidra, how were you able to do this?" He searched her eyes and at last saw a flicker of recognition and let his hands drop. "Please, can't you tell me?"
Deidra shifted and laid down with her head in Severus's lap. She was completely exhausted, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and fall asleep in Severus's arms, but she did owe him an explanation. So she drew a deep, shaky breath and began. "The mark that was burned into your arm could only have burned itself into your skin with a raw force. A raw force is a force that gets its power from the force of a wizard's raw emotion that he or she has channeled so that it can be used for magical purposes. The idea was invented thousands of years ago by some old bitties that wanted wizards to find other ways of dealing with their anger. They figured all the big bad wizards would channel their anger into magically mowing the lawn. But of course no one did any such thing. Instead, everyone used the concept to make their spells longer lasting and more powerful. The ministry, realizing what this might lead to, outlawed the procedure, slapped all offenders with a life sentence in Azkaban, and destroyed all known written material dealing with the idea. Well of course you can't completely eliminate the idea of something, because there were people who'd heard of it, or tried it themselves, and throughout the years the idea of raw forces have been passed down by word of mouth. My father taught me about it himself. He said that if I was ever facing a real dark wizard then they would most likely know about raw forces, and if you're a dark wizard, you don't care if something's against the law. So he said I had to be able to fight it and use it myself."
"Well, now you know where it comes from, now I'll tell you what it has to do with you and what I just did. My guess is when Voldemort was developing his dark powers he explored the concept of raw forces and got very good at it. Because the only way something could be burned that far into your arm and not ever be able to be removed would be if he used a raw force. Now a raw force must be drawn from one's most powerful and profound emotion, for Voldemort it was his hate, and anger of the world and everything in it. But what most people didn't know about raw forces is that they can always be countered. Going back to what's stated in the muggle laws of physics, 'for every force or action, there is an opposite force or reaction.' This meant that any spell cast using a raw force can be countered, or undone by a spell using a raw force of an opposite emotion. Therefore all I had to do to remove the mark on your arm was to cast a common removal spell using the raw force of my most powerful positive emotion."
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Severus leaned against the desk, Deidra's head still laying in his lap, and he absently ran his fingers through it. Though he was too tired to look it, he was completely shocked by what he'd just heard. He'd never even known about raw forces, and Deidra had just used one to solve one of his most daunting personal obstacles. But then another thought struck him, "What was the emotion you used that was powerful enough to combat something as vast as Voldemort's hate?"
Deidra had been nearly asleep when he asked her, but she had know from the very beginning that if she told him what she'd done, he'd ask that. She had tried to think of ways to avoid telling him the truth, but at that moment Deidra knew that it was probably best simply to tell him the truth. Reluctantly pulling herself up to a sitting position she turned and faced him. Down casting her eyes she felt her throat swell as she tried to force the words. She tried once, twice, and then on the third time she gritted her teeth and blurted out as fast as she could, "MY LOVE FOR YOU!"
Now Deidra was afraid. Though Severus had said he'd loved her, throughout their history he'd never taken to the idea of being loved himself. He made thousands of base excuses for why she had stayed with him. Whenever she'd tried to tell him she loved him he'd pushed her away. What if he pushed her away now? She looked at his face, trying to read into the two black pits that seemed to be endlessly staring back at her.
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Her words had shocked Severus out of the lethargy he'd sunk into since coming to after she'd put the spell on his arm. Her love for, HIM! She'd said she loved him earlier, but he'd been sure that she'd been lying, just trying to get him back under her thumb. She didn't love him, no one did. How could anyone love him, Severus, the lowly, slimy Death Eater who'd been saved by the mercy of Albus Dumbledore. He loved Deidra with all his heart, but even when he'd kissed her not an hour ago, he'd been sure that she had no real love for him.
But then he looked down at his left arm and a little voice in the back of his head whispered, she does love you, there is your proof, undeniable, unfakable proof. He turned away from her, unable to look at her. Someone loved him. Someone loved him enough that her love for him was the most powerful emotion she possessed.
Severus turned back and saw Deidra crouched on the floor shaking violently. Gingerly he reached out to stroke her hair, but she drew away. "Severus, I'm too tired to deal with this, if you can't deal with what I just told you, say so and I'll go, but don't make me stay and listen to your pathetic reasons why I shouldn't, couldn't love you, because I do, and there's no getting around it."
Severus reached out again, and this time her caught her and he held her close to him. "I know, I believe you now, and I'm sorry for being such a fool before, but don't leave, please?" He felt her limbs relax and took the chance to pull her even closer. Doing so he marveled at how she fit so well against him. He whispered into her ear, "You're tired, why don't you lie down for a while, then we can talk once you feel a bit more composed."
Deidra mumbled something that he took for a yes. Very carefully he gathered her up in his arms and prepared for the long trek through the halls of Hogwarts. He looked down at Deidra, she was asleep now, and she looked so at peace. Her features were perfectly set in the calmness of sleep and there was a faint smile on her pale face. A thought came to Severus, he didn't want to be seen walking through the halls in the middle of the night carrying Dumbledore's daughter. He knew the truth, Deidra knew the truth, and he suspected that Dumbledore would believe them. But he knew what the other teachers would think, and how their opinion of Deidra would change, and he didn't want that for her. Well she had to sleep somewhere, he couldn't just stand here holding her all night. There was only one other place he could take her, and turning around he headed for the back entrance of the classroom, and the door to his room.
Once they were inside he pulled back his heavy comforter and gently laid her down on the mattress. He pulled the comforter back up over her and smoothed some stray hair that had fallen over her face. Severus had thought about sleeping on the floor, or in a chair in his study. But as he watched her sleep, it was like falling into a trance. He saw nothing but that small, soft, slumbering form and leaning against the post at the edge of his bed he settled down to watch over his love.