All disclaimers are in place. Refer to the Prologue section for details.

PART EIGHT: CONTROL

A long, silent moment passed. In a far corner, Madam Pomfrey broke through the quiet as she adjusted her desk chair to reach for something. Dumbledore patted the man's shoulder. "At least, for her sake, make peace with the girl."

Snape swayed violently, but did not fall. His jaw was set. A feeling not unlike panic, but not quite despair… washed over him. He stilled his rapid breathing, and gritting his teeth, said, "After all these years, I still don't understand… how can this be so?"

The Headmaster sighed. "Once again… A half-completed curse leaves the subject 'in limbo,' for search of a better term, much the same as a half-finished and forgotten potion eventually boils over and is left to waste. She has had the first half of the curse forced upon her, as you also have. The only way to keep her from… 'boiling over'… is to complete the curse."

"Or else she'll fall subject to the curse and die," Snape concluded.

"That is correct. The signs are already here, in her inability to control some of her… less desirable tendencies."

Snape muttered something foul under his breath, something even the Headmaster couldn't identify.

"I'll leave you now, as I judge you have some serious thinking to do," the older man said and gave Snape another firm pat on the shoulder before leaving him to his thoughts.

And then Snape was alone. And he knew it.

He fled to the dungeons.

And ended up in Halo's childhood room, a place he hadn't set foot inside since the day she left. She had been under his care until she was four years old, at which time her inability to confine herself to their personal chambers warranted her being sent away for fear of her discovery by the students, some of whom undoubtedly had parents who still followed the fallen Dark Lord.

And then she would be obtained as an instrument of corruption to Snape and used for evil.

Even in Snape's twisted, callous thinking, he couldn't let that happen. She was a child, after all.

His child, at that. Or was she? He couldn't decide.

"Damn you Linnaeus Mandelor!" Snape shouted into the stale air of the child's bedroom.

'Now, now Severus…' a small humanoid figure with a pure white aura popped onto his right shoulder. 'The child needs your compassion, not this bitter rage against someone she never knew.'

Another figure popped onto his left shoulder, this one sporting a racy pair of red horns. 'You're not listening to this nonsense, are you? Forget about the child. You shouldn't have been asked to take her in the first place.'

The light figure spoke again. 'Are you going to let your fear of this situation ruin your life, or are you going to finally do something you've promised yourself you would do?'

'You're a great, greasy prat! The child would never accept you!' This coming from the high-strung horned-one.

The one who first spoke looked past Snape to its rival. 'Discouraging him will not allow him to realize his full potential!'

'Forget his potential, what about his sanity?' The other snapped.

"Enough!" Snape shouted. The opposing figures popped out of existence.

He stole over to Halo's old bed and reached for a graying, worn pillow… the one he had conjured for her to sleep with the night she had first come into his life. Halo had taken to the raggedy thing, dragging it wherever she went and refusing to let anyone take it from her, except on the rare occasion that Snape could tear it away from her for the House Elves to wash it.

It had been left behind when she was sent away.

Snape held the limp softness to his chest and breathed in its scent. A mix of her hair and hints of crayon, baby powder and dust flowed through his nostrils. The sweet smells clashed with the memory of him denying her permission to take the raggedy thing with her; it was oddly comforting and bitterly disheartening at the same time.

He stuffed the pillow into a deep pocket in his robes and headed for the Hospital Wing once more.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Halo drifted, in a rather disturbing manner, into and out of consciousness. Her head was filled to capacity with memories and feelings, both recent and distant. And not one was pleasant. There might as well have been a disco ball implanted in her brain to go along with the thud… thud… thud… of her head.

She had begun tossing in her bed for another round of thrashing when Snape reappeared at her bedside.

The child desperately needed comfort.

Madam Pomfrey, who was about to put the girl under a full-body-bind to prevent her from injuring herself, stood down when Snape waved her away.

Halo's arms were pressed to her chest, and she curled tightly on her left side, shaking.

Snape knelt to face her, and taking one of her hands, he was able to pry it away from her long enough to drop the ragged pillow into her arms. He sat back and waited for a reaction.

Halo's forehead wrinkled, then relaxed. Her arms drew the pillow into her face and her chest rose as she inhaled deeply.

Snape blew out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

It was still dark on Saturday morning before he moved again.

Halo awoke on her side, still clutching the pillow to her chest, and blinked to focus on the pair of black eyes that were staring back at her from just inches away.

"You know," said a soft baritone voice, "I like you much better when you're sleeping."

Halo squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. "What happened…"

Snape considered her question thoughtfully. Sarcasm won over. He ticked off a list on his fingers. "Let's see… you assaulted your Potions professor, you openly admitted that you hate me and you destroyed my classroom again… but for once you managed to do as you were told."

Was there just a hint of pride in that last part?

Halo's attention fell upon the old pillow in her arms. The fact that she had the dearly loved item in her possession bit into her soul, as he must have had a very good reason for returning it to her. "I haven't seen this since I was little… why are you letting me have it now?"

"Would you have opted for a full-body-bind instead?" he countered, allowing her time to process his sarcastic query. "Come on. We have work to do."

With the go-ahead from Madam Pomfrey and strict instructions to Snape not to let Halo overdo it, the young girl followed him through the abandoned, pre-dawn corridors and into her father's chambers.

"Everything in your old room belongs to you," he began, leading her to the doorway of her small chamber. "You may do with it what you wish, but it all needs to be cleared out if I am to provide a sound training room for you." He hoped his words hadn't sounded overly generous.

But to say the least, Halo was surprised.

"Father…"

"Yes?" Snape tried not to flinch at the word.

"May I ask you a question?"

"I believe you just did."

"I need an explanation."

"That isn't a question."

Halo walked over to her bed and sat down, bringing the pillow she was carrying to rest in her lap. "I don't understand why you first wrote all those things about Sirens and then you want me to break things."

Snape sighed. He knew it was coming. And he wasn't sure he was prepared to answer her.

But he did it anyway. His voice was emotionless.

"The earlier writings I gave you were… a ploy. A distraction, if you will. It was a means of invoking a charge of emotion from you, one that was needed for you to display the abilities you have. Yes, there is the possibility of you developing a Siren's true voice, but the other skill you possess is that which allows you to focus the energy of  your voice to repel objects, and even people."

"But right now, I can only break things…" she concluded.

"That is correct."

"Can I ask another question?"

Snape was silent, waiting.

"Why… why are you being so nice to me?"

Snape swallowed hard. "That… is something I do not wish to discuss with you."

Halo nodded. "Professor Dumbledore is making you be nice to me, isn't he?"

"No."

"Then why? I deserve to know."

Snape turned his back to her. "I will not discuss it with you now."

"Okay, okay, just… tell me what you want me to do."

He whirled to face her again. "Decide what you want to keep in here. Then we're going to the Apothecary in Hogsmeade, as I told you before."

Halo nodded, and he left her to her work. Her eyes roamed through the small room to things she thought she'd never see again. She realized that it was exactly the way she'd left it, down to the splatter of red watercolor on the wall, a mark that had been left as she'd been dragged kicking and screaming from the room nine years ago.

And for the first time in her life, she was truly scared. Of him. Not that he'd hurt her… but that he knew something she didn't. Something horrible.

Something about her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The weekend passed without incident, and once again the Potions classroom was fully stocked and ready to resume normal classroom activities. It took the better part of two weeks and a few mild tantrums to remove all unnecessary items from Halo's old room and furnish it with a desk and a sound-proofing charm. It also took the better part of Snape's patience to keep from lashing out at her as he would to any other student.

He knew he owed her much more. But he couldn't bring himself to give her what she truly needed.

Every night, Halo had gone to bed exhausted. Oliver had dropped her several encouraging notes, but had not pressed her for any more of their friendship than she was willing to give.

Luna began to click her beak more and more spitefully every time Valley, Oliver's gray barn owl, had graced the windowsill with a note or a Chocolate Frog for Halo. Through the flurry of his correspondence, Halo had gotten more of a taste of his life than he had of hers. In fact, Luna had only been used twice to send short notes of thanks to her Quidditch-obsessed friend. She promised herself she would talk to him again before the first game of the season.

The signs that Halo had begun to suffer from depression were more and more noticeable, and despite Snape's carefully-masked efforts to assist her, her health had begun to roll slowly downhill.

The day of the Quidditch game dawned all too quickly, one rainy Saturday in late November. Halo sent Luna into the storm with a small roll of waterproof-charmed parchment, on which was written the words: I'm ready to talk. Come to my room in a hour.

Oliver was knocking at her door in under fifteen minutes, while Halo was still pulling her robes on after a cold wake-up shower. "Hold on a sec," she called, frantically shaking the excess water from her brown-black hair, which she left dripping down her back when she opened the door.

"Hi," Oliver greeted her shyly.

"You're early."

"I know… sorry about that. I was just excited about seeing you again." He let the door close behind him and stepped closer to her. "Is everything all right?"

"Uh… yes, and no." Halo wrung her hands and began pacing the room. The hours that she had spent rehearsing what she wanted to tell him had been for nothing, as she realized she had no idea where to begin.

"Why don't you sit down?" Oliver offered.

"Yes… good idea." She pulled a chair up to the one he had taken a seat in and sat to face him. She tried to settle her hands in her lap, but they shook uncontrollably. It took several moments before she could form a coherent sentence.

"I hope none of this will scare you… what am I saying, it still scares me…"

"Just… tell me," Oliver placed his hand over her shaking ones. He could see the anxiety flickering in her eyes, and he tried to offer her the comfort of his open mind.

"That day in detention… I did something that… well, let's just say any other student would have been expelled not only from this school but from wizarding society as well."

"That bad, huh?" Oliver's brow was wrinkled with worry. "So why were you different?"

"First let me tell you what I did…" Halo gulped, her heart thumping in her ears. "I destroyed Professor Snape's classroom."

This confession made Oliver laugh, but he straightened when he saw the offended and quite betrayed look on his friend's face. "Sorry, I was imagining the look on his face when he saw his classroom in ruins. Go on. How did you do it?"

"I… I have to show you." She stood and pulled her hand out of his grip long enough to retrieve an empty glass jar from her bathroom. She set it on the floor and knelt before it.

"You might want to stand back."

Oliver stood from his chair and backed across the room.

Halo looked to him for a quick moment, to ensure he was prepared, though she doubted he really was. She silently hoped that her skills were adequately tuned for the demonstration, then released a short, high-pitched, almost inaudible sound that caused the jar to shatter instantly.

Halo regained her breath and swayed a bit before glancing around the room to make certain that nothing else had been broken. She was relieved to find that she had been successful.

But disconcerted when she saw the look on her friend's face.

She took her wand from her nightstand and repaired the jar before rising to her feet. "Now you know why I was afraid to tell you."

"You're… um… how exactly did you do that?" Oliver looked more surprised now than afraid, and Halo hoped it meant he would be understanding.

Halo sat down in her chair again, methodically wringing her hands. "I thought about how much I hate my father, and it just happened." She lowered her eyes to the floor.

Oliver stumbled over to his chair and placed his fingers under her chin as encouragement for her to meet his gaze. "Halo, I don't understand… how is it that you can do this? I've never heard of anyone who can do anything remotely like it."

"I'm a Siren, Oliver."

Oliver Wood froze. "You're a… what?"

"I'm a…"

"I heard you the first time," he interrupted, rising from his seat. It was his turn to pace the room.

Halo sighed as she struggled to find words of reassurance. "There are such sever misconceptions about Sirens that have been thrown around, I don't even know where to begin. But what you believe me to be is nothing like who I am. All I can do right now is break glass, nothing more."

"So… you don't have the power to seduce me? Or… steal my soul?"

"Is that what you think I would do to the only friend I have?"

"No." The word came quicker than his thinking, but Oliver realized when he said it how true it was. "I don't think you would, it's just a lot to take in."

"Humph… easy for you to say."

"So you didn't tell me why you weren't expelled," Oliver said, hoping the slight change of subject would make them both feel better.

"Because… my father wouldn't allow it."

"And when has an outsider had more influence on the school than Professor Dumbledore?" he said.

"Since he's not an outsider."

"Who is he, then? Is he on the education panel at the Ministry?"

"No, he's a teacher at this school."

"But who…" Once again, his words were too quick for his brain. He shook his head in disbelief.

Halo watched him put two and two together. She nodded to him.

"Professor Snape," they said in quiet unison, both voices confirming.