Now for the far-too-long-delayed part 10 of Listen. Many thanks to my reviewers. This scene is difficult to write well, so in addition I will say that what I had in mind is similar to scenes from The Pretender, especially from Island of the Haunted, when Angelo is asked to exercise his own empathy. Just a note, there should be only two or three more parts to this fic, which will be done once I can find time. I know it's hiding around here somewhere. . .

Ladymage Samiko ; )

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Listen for My Heart

Part 10 ~ Real Dreams Are Blood Red

It was a quiet group that gathered in Eiluneth's rooms later that morning. She glanced uneasily at the other two men. Dumbledore was his normal self with a bright twinkle in his eye; however, even his twinkle was dimmed somewhat by a shadow of worry. Snape's expression was even more closed than usual; he watched her movements with eyes that were coldly challenging. They did not leave her face even as he was rolling up his sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark. He thrust his arm out in front of him; his eyebrow raised in sardonic expectation.

With wide but determined eyes, Eiluneth looked up into his face just as steadily, never breaking her gaze from his. Her hands grasped his arm gently, without hesitation and without the disgust he was so certainly expecting. Eiluneth saw something flicker in his eyes at her touch, but couldn't decipher what it was. With a final deep breath, she gathered her strength and lay her hand full against the Mark.

Severus felt the girl's fingers trace the ridges of the Mark lightly, almost like a caress. Startled, he searched her face, but he couldn't read anything there. He watched her steel herself, then felt her palm, cool and dry, against his skin.

Her reaction was almost electrical. She stiffened and her hand pressed heavily against him. Her lips began to move silently for several long moments before words began to spill forth. When they did, Severus went rigid with shock.

"Dark," she murmured. "No one here. Is it a joke? A snake! What--? Ow! Too much light!" It had been years, many long years, but Eiluneth gave voice to the thoughts that had been his on that night, the memories become as clear as if they were just happening. He remembered the pitch black of the building he had been told to enter, the pain as the brightness stabbed at his eyes when witchlights appeared. He remembered throwing up his arm in defense. Eiluneth spoke, but it was his own mental voice he heard.

Her face took on an expression of fear and awe, one he recognized intimately. "Voldemort. . ." she whispered, the voice behind it that of a teenage boy. "It's him. I know it's him! Tall, powerful. So much power. . . Yes! I want it! I want the power! I don't care what it costs! I need the power! I'll do anything you ask, anything! He's coming towards me! I'm chosen; I can feel it! Please, my lord! Please, please, please! Now, my lord! Please!" Eiluneth's body jerked and she gave a terrible cry of pain. Her hands clutched his arm convulsively, her nails digging into the flesh for a brief second before she stumbled against him. Somehow, he was able to break his paralysis and catch her before she slid down to the floor.

Still trying to clear the shock from his mind, Severus let his hands automatically steady her. Silca, on his shoulder as always, flowed down his arm and nuzzled the exhausted girl. Eiluneth gave her a small smile, then turned her head to face Severus. He froze, his eyes captured by the intense blue gaze of her own. She regarded him seriously for several moments before reaching a hand up to him and laying it against his cheek. "I understand, Professor," she whispered hoarsely. "I understand." There was a pause. "Severus. I know." He jerked back, startled at her words and the touch of her fingers on his skin. What she was offering him was not sympathy--which Dumbledore and one or two others had offered freely--but something else entirely. He turned away.

Eiluneth shifted again, this time to find the Headmaster. "I'm sorry, sir," she answered his unspoken question. "Nothing. Professor Snape's emotions are too dominant. I-- We must ask Harry."

"Potter?" Snape asked in surprise. "What the devil does Potter have to do with this?"

"He is the only other person in this school with a recent connection to Voldemort," Dumbledore replied gravely. "The nature of Miss Pierce's work must remain confidential. He is our only other option."

Snape stared silently at the older man for several moments before standing and sweeping out of the room. Dumbledore turned once more to the pale hedgewitch.

"It's alright, Headmaster," she told him. "I do understand."

It was several hours later when Dumbledore came to fetch Harry. Severus, who had been lurking in the corridors for some time (though he would probably never admit to it), followed the two back to Eiluneth's rooms. Once there, he stationed himself next to the door, scowling at the collected company.

Dumbledore and Eilnueth quickly explained to Harry everything that was happening. After a few moments of consideration, Harry nodded solemnly, agreeing to the experiment.

If it was possible, Eiluneth slipped into a trance even more quickly than before. Harry stared up at her wide-eyed as words began to spill out of her mouth.

"Bright!" shouted Eiluneth/Baby Harry's voice. "Papa scared. Mama run. Mama scared. Harry scared. Mama scared! Harry scared! Mama scared, Harry scared! Mama scare-- Bright! Bright bright bright! Mama? Mama? Mamaaa! Maamaaaaaa!" With that final cry, Eiluneth sank to the ground in a dead faint. Dumbledore just managed to keep her head from striking the ground, then looked at the other two. Harry stood stock still, face white as he stared at Eiluneth. Snape made no move, either, his own features twisted in tortured pain. Without a word, he turned and fled.

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It was but a few moments when Eiluneth regained consciousness. She noticed Harry still staring at her from a few feet away and Dumbledore seated at the other end of the couch she was lying on. Severus was nowhere to be seen and she was too emotionally exhausted to Listen for him. She turned to the boy and smiled warmly. "Thank you, Harry," she said simply.

"Did it work?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes. It worked." Eiluneth's eyes clouded with the memories. "Harry, I'm sorry."

The boy shrugged uncomfortably. "Can't change the past," he replied. "It's something I've learned here."

"But that doesn't mean we don't have regrets, Harry," she said gently. He shrugged again.

"It is almost time for supper, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "You should go join the others."

"Yes, sir," the boy replied gratefully and vanished.

"And you," the headmaster continued, his voice mock-stern, "should get some rest, young lady. I will have a tray sent up later on."

"Thank you, sir," Eiluneth replied softly.

"Not at all, my dear. It is I who should be thanking you."

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The days' events had taken a toll on Eiluneth, who retired to her rooms for the remainder of the holidays. New Year's Day passed, as did Boxing Day, before she emerged from her rooms, looking ghostly-pale and anorexically thin.

Beyond a daily visit from the Headmaster, she had not spoken or seen anyone.

Snape glanced at her, slightly surprised, when she appeared at dinner the day before classes were to resume. She was so tiny and frail in her customary long dress; he wondered that she was able to walk unassisted. An eyebrow lifted as he gave a mental shrug. It was none of his concern, anyway. He wanted nothing more to do with her and, judging by her lack of attempts, she wanted nothing more to do with him, either. It appeared they would both be satisfied.

And so Severus Snape was even more surprised when Eiluneth approached him after dinner.

"Um, excuse me, Professor," she said hesitantly. It appeared her voice and her nerve had dwindled along with the rest of her. "I– I at least wanted to explain my Christmas present to you. I– never had the chance." No need to say why, he thought sourly.

"Of course," he replied calmly. "Let me collect it and we will adjourn to the library."

"Yes, Professor."

He had not reopened the box since Christmas, preferring to leave its slightly puzzling contents alone. They obviously had some sort of special meaning, and a hedgewitch's gift may be more than what it seemed. Silently, he removed the candles from the box and set them side by side on the table he had chosen in the restricted section. They would be less likely to be disturbed or overheard here and even Granger would think twice before trying to snatch a book while he was in here. Snape also removed the card with the odd verse on it–it sounded like some sort of prayer–and snapped it down next to the candles. Eiluneth jumped slightly at the noise.

"So," Snape began, "I trust there is some explanation besides the fact that you think my rooms need more light." A small nip from Silca, who was still hiding under his hair, reminded him to be nice.

"Yes," Eiluneth whispered. She took up the card in her hand, studied it, and then let her eyes go distant. "A hedgewitch has a certain. . . bond with the earth, with the power contained within it and the. . . consciousness that controls it. English has no words to really describe it properly. The Asian ki, or chi, is perhaps better, along with the Japanese kami or Latin numen. In any case, though hedgewitches cannot use this power directly, we are attuned to it and can. . . make requests. There is power contained in these candles, Professor; I thought you might find them useful." Her fingers laid the card back down and brushed the length of the first candle, which was an almost translucent white, inscribed with a shining gold character. "The ancient word for 'illumination,' Professor. The next," she gestured to a dark blue, almost black, candle, "is 'wisdom.' The crimson is 'strength,' the gold is, roughly, 'good things.' If you have need of any of these things, light the candle and the request will be answered." Eiluneth stood, her face seemingly paler at the effort, and made her way to the door. For a brief moment, she turned back. "Please remember, Professor Snape, that I am a hedgewitch, not some teenager dabbling in Wicca." Her face expressionless, she turned away again and continued down the hall.

As Snape silently gathered the candles into their box, it occurred to him that the last time he had seen Eiluneth, she had called him 'Severus.'