Disclaimer: I don't own anything that JK Rowling came up with. The plot and
several characters belong to me.
A/N: Yes…that's right…the elusive Keeper comes! Arrives here in this chapter, chapter number twelve. Hey! I've written twelve chapters! This is a first, I've never really gone back and finished any of my stories before. Which reminds me, that pathetic 'Liberty Girls' is coming down…it's a really silly story. Candy for the mind. Irritating little rich girls irritate everyone while trying to prove…all sorts of things. Gah.
Thanks to: Anyone who'd like to take a brainless black cat off my hands. Jokes, jokes, I'm keeping the cat. Maybe.
Dedicated to: See above. Nah, this is dedicated to my friends in the role- play boards. Let's see…names here listed:
Shannon; Chrissie; Eleanor; Cymon; Locke; Kay; Rain; Rehan; corrosive; deformed; Eric (hmm. The jury's still out on you, my friend); Katherine; correan, think his name's Simon (really must pay attention mustn't I?); and many, many more.
-
Chapter Twelve: The Keeper Comes
-
The Death Eaters waited.
Morag intoned the last words of the incantation and downed the last of the oddly delicious potion. She threw the last of the dark blue powder into the fire, and waited. Her robe was – as the spell insisted – plain white silk (perhaps the same heavy silk the Lady of the Lake was famed for), and her long blonde hair streamed down to her waist, silk rope tied through it in particular ways. She stood in the center of a carefully drawn pentagram.
Something happened.
Morag stiffened – she had been secretly hoping the spell wouldn't work.
No such luck.
In the fire, the most beautiful woman since the dawn of time appeared. Her hair was long, but not blonde, as some may have assumed. No, it was jet black, and her eyes were deep green. She was slender, and her figure in perfect proportion. She wore a robe identical to Morag's, and her eyes contained the wisdom of the ages.
This unmatched beauty stepped from the fire and knelt before Morag.
"My power is thine to command, O Fair Mistress." The woman's voice was soothing, and there was the underlying offer of anything Morag dared to dream of.
For a moment, even Voldemort was entranced.
Morag spoke the words that she had memorized from the book. "Keeper of Secrets, Power-wielder of the Ancients, thou art mine to command and mine alone. To thee, I am the sun and the moon and the stars and thou shalt not serve another master or mistress as long as I have breath. Swear upon thy blood."
The woman nodded approvingly – had Morag said anything else, it was very unlikely she would have lived to sunrise. In the flickering light of the stars and the fire, the White Woman swore an oath of allegiance to Morag, so binding that only Morag's death could break it – and then she would still be honor-bound to protect Morag's family. Bound by more than just honor, it would not be a choice. She would not protect in the same way, but they would have her protection.
Voldemort smiled.
-
"Bring you who?"
Morag paced. He still had her mother, but she had the Keeper of Secrets. It was uncertain who had the upper hand.
"Bring me Potter." Voldemort repeated.
"She may not shed his blood." Morag cautioned. "The protection on Harry Potter is strong. You found a way around it, she may not have that same luxury."
"She does not have to spill his blood. Merely bring him to me. I want the Potter boy, Morag Snape, now."
With heavy heart and icy demeanor, Morag swept past the Death Eaters. Voldemort trusted her entirely now that he had her mother in his power. She did not know everything, but the Death Eaters could not touch her, no matter what she said or did.
She was abusing that power shamelessly.
Wouldn't you?
-
"Shut up, shut up!"
"Sirius, I don't think Voldemort's going to hear us."
"Bloody hell. Fine. Yell your head off for all I care."
"I'll yell your head off in a minute."
"Twenty points from Gryffindor."
Remus and Sirius stopped arguing. Had Severus Snape just…made a joke?*
They exchanged glances.
"Severus…" Sirius started.
"That was almost a joke." Remus finished.
"Now is no time for jokes." Severus reminded them, but they both grinned. Perhaps there was hope for the greasy old professor after all.
((a/n: 'greasy' is a matter of opinion. Harry and Co. think it's greasy. Severus and his family believe that it is merely well kept and radiant. Except for Morag, who thinks they're all insane. Thank you for your time, back to our scheduled programming. **somewhere in NZ, a girl falls off the chair in front of her computer, laughing**))
Hope was something they were running low on at the moment.
A moment's light heartedness concealed the fear and uncertainty bubbling so close to the surface.
Severus shivered.
His wife and daughter, they were relying on these people to rescue them.
He couldn't let them down.
He wouldn't let them down.
If only he could believe that.
-
Harry stared at Hermione, looking at her as if she was a walking ogre- bogie.
"You've got to be kidding." He said finally.
"No way. Try thinking like Voldemort for a moment—"
"Not in a million years." Ron shuddered, then added, "Why won't you just say 'You Know Who' like normal folks?"
"Shut up, Ron. Listen. Try thinking like Voldemort for a moment. You've just gotten something that could bring the world to its knees before you. Wouldn't you go for the old enemies first? You were his downfall – several times. If I were Voldemort, I'd kill you first. But if I were Voldemort, I'd bring you to my lair and gloat a bit first." Hermione rushed through, so that Ron couldn't interrupt again.
"So…you think Voldemort wants me?" Harry replied slowly.
"Gee, Harry, you're so smart, you should like, get a prize!" Hermione gushed.
"Yeah, I get it, Mione." Harry flapped a hand at her, irritated. "I'm stupid."
"Harry, what's two plus two?" Hermione wasn't letting go that easy.
"Five." He snapped. "Happy?"
"Sorry, Harry." She didn't look very repentant though.
Ron was trying not to snort pumpkin juice through his nose.
-
Morganna relaxed on the pile of silken cushions in her bedchamber. This was just the loveliest place she'd ever been. She had delicious food whenever she felt hungry – almost before! Her daughter was always around, and there were all these nice people.
She wondered absently why Morag always floated about the place like a lost waif, and why Severus was never there.
But she dismissed such thoughts, the product of an idle mind, she scolded herself, and reclined with a book.
Lucius smirked as he watched her.
'So much for, "Touch her and die", eh Severus old boy,' he thought to himself** and then he left.
Morganna dozed off.
Fretful dreams pursued her, dreams she could never quite remember when she woke up.
**Dream Sequence**
A lovely woman that seemed somehow familiar stood next to her. They were looking down at Morag. Morag was sleeping, but it didn't look like she was having happy dreams.
'You have to help yourself to help your daughter, Mistress Snape.' The kindly woman told her. 'Fight them, Mistress Snape.'
Morganna didn't understand. 'Fight who?'
'You are cursed, Mistress Snape. The Imperio curse. Remember Morag, remember Severus! You are all in grave danger and you must trust me. Remember this dream – remember your daughter's pain. You will surely die if she fails, but if you fail, she will never truly live. The Death Eaters have captured you. Lucius Malfoy has you under the Imperio Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses. You must fight.'
Morganna understood. 'I will,'
'Fight it,' the woman said one last time. And then she was gone.
**End Dream Sequence**
Morganna awoke with a start. There was something she had to remember, something important. About…Morag?
-
A/N: Well, what do you think? Morganna is having dreams of the Keeper and Lucius Malfoy is a prat. Like we need told twice.
*Pretty hard to believe, huh?
**Quote from a role-play. She insulted him, he advanced on her, and Severus said 'Touch her and die'. Thought I'd throw that in. Don't know why. Isn't he a prat, a major pillock? Amen to that. Down with Malfoy Snr.
A/N: Yes…that's right…the elusive Keeper comes! Arrives here in this chapter, chapter number twelve. Hey! I've written twelve chapters! This is a first, I've never really gone back and finished any of my stories before. Which reminds me, that pathetic 'Liberty Girls' is coming down…it's a really silly story. Candy for the mind. Irritating little rich girls irritate everyone while trying to prove…all sorts of things. Gah.
Thanks to: Anyone who'd like to take a brainless black cat off my hands. Jokes, jokes, I'm keeping the cat. Maybe.
Dedicated to: See above. Nah, this is dedicated to my friends in the role- play boards. Let's see…names here listed:
Shannon; Chrissie; Eleanor; Cymon; Locke; Kay; Rain; Rehan; corrosive; deformed; Eric (hmm. The jury's still out on you, my friend); Katherine; correan, think his name's Simon (really must pay attention mustn't I?); and many, many more.
-
Chapter Twelve: The Keeper Comes
-
The Death Eaters waited.
Morag intoned the last words of the incantation and downed the last of the oddly delicious potion. She threw the last of the dark blue powder into the fire, and waited. Her robe was – as the spell insisted – plain white silk (perhaps the same heavy silk the Lady of the Lake was famed for), and her long blonde hair streamed down to her waist, silk rope tied through it in particular ways. She stood in the center of a carefully drawn pentagram.
Something happened.
Morag stiffened – she had been secretly hoping the spell wouldn't work.
No such luck.
In the fire, the most beautiful woman since the dawn of time appeared. Her hair was long, but not blonde, as some may have assumed. No, it was jet black, and her eyes were deep green. She was slender, and her figure in perfect proportion. She wore a robe identical to Morag's, and her eyes contained the wisdom of the ages.
This unmatched beauty stepped from the fire and knelt before Morag.
"My power is thine to command, O Fair Mistress." The woman's voice was soothing, and there was the underlying offer of anything Morag dared to dream of.
For a moment, even Voldemort was entranced.
Morag spoke the words that she had memorized from the book. "Keeper of Secrets, Power-wielder of the Ancients, thou art mine to command and mine alone. To thee, I am the sun and the moon and the stars and thou shalt not serve another master or mistress as long as I have breath. Swear upon thy blood."
The woman nodded approvingly – had Morag said anything else, it was very unlikely she would have lived to sunrise. In the flickering light of the stars and the fire, the White Woman swore an oath of allegiance to Morag, so binding that only Morag's death could break it – and then she would still be honor-bound to protect Morag's family. Bound by more than just honor, it would not be a choice. She would not protect in the same way, but they would have her protection.
Voldemort smiled.
-
"Bring you who?"
Morag paced. He still had her mother, but she had the Keeper of Secrets. It was uncertain who had the upper hand.
"Bring me Potter." Voldemort repeated.
"She may not shed his blood." Morag cautioned. "The protection on Harry Potter is strong. You found a way around it, she may not have that same luxury."
"She does not have to spill his blood. Merely bring him to me. I want the Potter boy, Morag Snape, now."
With heavy heart and icy demeanor, Morag swept past the Death Eaters. Voldemort trusted her entirely now that he had her mother in his power. She did not know everything, but the Death Eaters could not touch her, no matter what she said or did.
She was abusing that power shamelessly.
Wouldn't you?
-
"Shut up, shut up!"
"Sirius, I don't think Voldemort's going to hear us."
"Bloody hell. Fine. Yell your head off for all I care."
"I'll yell your head off in a minute."
"Twenty points from Gryffindor."
Remus and Sirius stopped arguing. Had Severus Snape just…made a joke?*
They exchanged glances.
"Severus…" Sirius started.
"That was almost a joke." Remus finished.
"Now is no time for jokes." Severus reminded them, but they both grinned. Perhaps there was hope for the greasy old professor after all.
((a/n: 'greasy' is a matter of opinion. Harry and Co. think it's greasy. Severus and his family believe that it is merely well kept and radiant. Except for Morag, who thinks they're all insane. Thank you for your time, back to our scheduled programming. **somewhere in NZ, a girl falls off the chair in front of her computer, laughing**))
Hope was something they were running low on at the moment.
A moment's light heartedness concealed the fear and uncertainty bubbling so close to the surface.
Severus shivered.
His wife and daughter, they were relying on these people to rescue them.
He couldn't let them down.
He wouldn't let them down.
If only he could believe that.
-
Harry stared at Hermione, looking at her as if she was a walking ogre- bogie.
"You've got to be kidding." He said finally.
"No way. Try thinking like Voldemort for a moment—"
"Not in a million years." Ron shuddered, then added, "Why won't you just say 'You Know Who' like normal folks?"
"Shut up, Ron. Listen. Try thinking like Voldemort for a moment. You've just gotten something that could bring the world to its knees before you. Wouldn't you go for the old enemies first? You were his downfall – several times. If I were Voldemort, I'd kill you first. But if I were Voldemort, I'd bring you to my lair and gloat a bit first." Hermione rushed through, so that Ron couldn't interrupt again.
"So…you think Voldemort wants me?" Harry replied slowly.
"Gee, Harry, you're so smart, you should like, get a prize!" Hermione gushed.
"Yeah, I get it, Mione." Harry flapped a hand at her, irritated. "I'm stupid."
"Harry, what's two plus two?" Hermione wasn't letting go that easy.
"Five." He snapped. "Happy?"
"Sorry, Harry." She didn't look very repentant though.
Ron was trying not to snort pumpkin juice through his nose.
-
Morganna relaxed on the pile of silken cushions in her bedchamber. This was just the loveliest place she'd ever been. She had delicious food whenever she felt hungry – almost before! Her daughter was always around, and there were all these nice people.
She wondered absently why Morag always floated about the place like a lost waif, and why Severus was never there.
But she dismissed such thoughts, the product of an idle mind, she scolded herself, and reclined with a book.
Lucius smirked as he watched her.
'So much for, "Touch her and die", eh Severus old boy,' he thought to himself** and then he left.
Morganna dozed off.
Fretful dreams pursued her, dreams she could never quite remember when she woke up.
**Dream Sequence**
A lovely woman that seemed somehow familiar stood next to her. They were looking down at Morag. Morag was sleeping, but it didn't look like she was having happy dreams.
'You have to help yourself to help your daughter, Mistress Snape.' The kindly woman told her. 'Fight them, Mistress Snape.'
Morganna didn't understand. 'Fight who?'
'You are cursed, Mistress Snape. The Imperio curse. Remember Morag, remember Severus! You are all in grave danger and you must trust me. Remember this dream – remember your daughter's pain. You will surely die if she fails, but if you fail, she will never truly live. The Death Eaters have captured you. Lucius Malfoy has you under the Imperio Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses. You must fight.'
Morganna understood. 'I will,'
'Fight it,' the woman said one last time. And then she was gone.
**End Dream Sequence**
Morganna awoke with a start. There was something she had to remember, something important. About…Morag?
-
A/N: Well, what do you think? Morganna is having dreams of the Keeper and Lucius Malfoy is a prat. Like we need told twice.
*Pretty hard to believe, huh?
**Quote from a role-play. She insulted him, he advanced on her, and Severus said 'Touch her and die'. Thought I'd throw that in. Don't know why. Isn't he a prat, a major pillock? Amen to that. Down with Malfoy Snr.