Disclaimer: The setting of this story, and most of the characters are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, I lay no claim to them. However the characters of Malana Avonell and Schön are of my own creation and to these two, I do claim rights.

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Professor Avonell wasted no time in seeing Dumbledore, but when she entered his office, she was surprised to find that the Headmaster already had company.

"Ah Professor," Dumbledore greeted her, "we were just about to come see you." 

He was seated behind his desk, Snape stood nearby brooding, and in the chair before the desk she could see the top of a pale haired man.

"Yes, Headmaster?" she replied crossing the room.

Lucius Malfoy rose from the chair turning to stair coldly at her.

"Yes.  Mr. Malfoy has lodged a complaint against you, I'm afraid," Dumbledore sighed heavily. 

"And what might that complaint be?" she address Malfoy, showing no sign of surprise at his presence.

"You have been threatening my son," Malfoy stated calmly.

"I've done nothing of the kind," she retorted.

"According to what he has told me, you were rather abusive the other evening in the Grate Hall," he leered at her.

"As I remember, he was delivering a message for you, Mr. Malfoy.  In the future, it might be wise to have him paraphrase your messages rather then repeat them verbatim.  That or you should choose your words more carefully."  She said icily.  "I will not be spoken to in those terms by mer student."

"It would be best," Malfoy flared, and then regained control again, "if, in the future, you were to treat my son with more respect."

"I treat all students with the respect he or she deserves," Avonell returned tersely.

Malfoy tensed at her implication.

"As head of the boy's house," Snape began silkily, moving towards them, "I will see to it, that there are no further problems."

"Thank you Professor," Malfoy drawled, turning his attention to Snape,  "that would be appreciated.  But the complaint still stands," he continued looking back at Avonell with a look of pure contempt.

Avonell inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement, and Malfoy sauntered from the room.

"You wanted to see me?" Dumbledore addressed her.

"If you will excuse me Headmaster," Snape interrupted.

"No Severus, you need to hear this too.  All the staff will need to be informed," Avonell said seriously.  "It seems that our Mr. Potter can Truth Read."

"Moving him along rather fast, aren't you?" Snape said venomously.

"Granted, exposure to me was most likely the catalyst," she sighed, "and it may only be with me, at this time however.  But I didn't teach this to him, at least not intentionally."

"This is a problem," Dumbledore replied soberly.

"There is another choice Headmaster, I could use a rapport and block his ability.  It won't might not last more than a few months, but it will give us time," she explained.

"That might be too risky," the Headmaster, said thoughtfully, "I think it might just be better to be truthful when dealing with Mr. Potter."

"And what is to be done if he asks for information we don't want him to have?"  Snape inquired.

"Be evasive," Dumbledore looked up at the Potions Master, "or simply tell him you cannot answer.  That wouldn't be a lie," looking back at Professor Avonell he added, "A rapport should be our last option."

"Understood," replied Avonell accepting Dumbledore's position.

"Thank you for warning us Malana," Dumbledore said, "Now if you will excuse me, I have a letter to write before I retired for the night."

Avonell bowed slightly and she and Professor Snape left the office.

"How do you know Potter can Truth Read?" Snape asked as the emerged into the hallway.

"He caught me in a lie, or a partial lie anyway," she shrugged, "and called me on the carpet for it."

"And you didn't teach him this?"

"Severus, I've only met with the boy twice.  There hasn't been time to teach him much of anything," she told him, "I've Truth Read him more then once, the only thing I can figure is that . . . " she paused, "he may be learning by example."

"Is that really possible?" replied Snape disbelievingly.

"As I remember, you learned to extend your senses by just watching me," she pointed out.

"Yes, I did.  But I had been studying with you for two months before that happened," he reminded her coldly,  "But I suppose Potter is rather special," he added distastefully.

"No more then you were, and are, Professor," she replied quietly.

Snape stopped and gave her an odd sort of expression.

"Harry only managed a weak glowing in his stone on his first attempt, not quite as bright as you managed, but still . . ." she paused and gave him a small smile.  "Good night Professor."

Snape watched her for a few moments, before descending the stairs towards the dungeons.

As Avonell made her way back to her office, she considered the events of the day.

Nefra was her adversary, why had Harry dreamed about him?  Where Harry's dreams shadows of the things to come?  How had the boy been able to Truth Read when he could barely control his mind enough to make the his crystal glow?

So preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice the figure that stepped out of the shadows behind her.

"You're slipping Professor Avonell," Lucius Malfoy purred.

Avonell spun around immediately on the defensive.

"What is it you want, Death Eater?" she asked coldly.

"Ah, but you can't prove that, can you?"  He said smoothly, his pale gray eyes gleaming, "You returned the only proof you had."

He began to approach her menacingly.

"Why did you come here Malfoy?" she countered holding her ground.

"As I said, my son . . ."

"Is that how you are raising your son," she spat, "to come running to Daddy every time he doesn't get his way.  Really Lucius, I would have expected . . ."

Malfoy closed the distance between them it two steps, seizing her by the wrist and twisting her arm painfully behind he, looping his other arm around her waist, pressing the head of his walking stick between her shoulders.

"I'd be careful, if I were you," he warned her in a low dangerous voice, and giving her a wicked smile.

He nuzzled her ear and then kissed her on the check.  She tried to avoid his advances, but he only twisted her arm more severely.

"I can have you any time I want," he breathed.

"It wouldn't be the first time you've tried," she growled, "and failed!"

She wrenched herself out of his grasp, but before she could do more he struck her across the face.  She staggered back from the force of his blow.

"Is there a problem . . . Lucius?"  Snape's voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

Malfoy turned to find the Professor standing a few feet away.

"No, not at all," he replied smoothly.

"Then allow me to see you out," Snape hissed.

Malfoy turned back to Avonell and saluted her with his walking stick.

"Good evening Professor," he said then turned back to Snape.  Together they receded down the hallway.

Avonell watched after them for several heartbeats, before turning on her heel and heading for her office, rubbing her sore jaw.

***

Once Professor Snape and Malfoy had reached the front hall, Snape broke the silence.

"Malana is not a woman to be trifled with, Lucius," he warned the other wizard.

"So it's Malana, is it?" Malfoy chuckled, "surely, Severus, you don't still harbor that school boy's crush on her?"

"Our Master is not yet strong enough to defeat Avonell," Snape hissed contemptuously,  "if she is to be dealt with, it would be best to take her off her guard."

"Yes," Malfoy said slowly, "I see your point.  Still I would be careful if I were you Severus, she is a cunning vixen."

Snape glared at him. 

"Good night, Lucius," he growled, and watched as Malfoy exited the Castle.

He started for the stone staircase that lead down into the dungeons, but stopped at the head of the stairs.  He stood there for several moments, then turned and headed back to the second floor.

As he turned down the hallway leading to Professor Avonell's office, he was mildly surprised to find her standing the hallway talking to Argus Filch.

"If she won't take this," she was saying as he approached them, "then try her on pat of butter."

"I will.  Thank you," Filch replied then looking up at Snape and seeing the look on his face, he added "hair balls."

Snape nodding understandingly, Cat people, he thought to himself.

"Thank you again," Filch repeated, "Good night Professor Avonell.  Professor Snape."

As Filch left, Snape reached out to turn Avonell's face to him.  She resisted at first, then gave in and turned to face him.  He scowled seeing the slight swelling and bruising along her jaw line.

"You should see Madam Pomfrey about that," he told her sternly.

"It will be gone by morning," she assured him a bit uneasily.

"What did Malfoy want?" Snape questioned.

Avonell shook her head and turned to open the door, "Nothing," she sighed.

Snape followed her into the office, knowing that 'nothing' was not the truth.

"I saw him hit you," he told her.

She walked to the desk and turned to face him, "Please Severus, don't push this."

"What did he do?" Snape asked ignoring her request, "what has he failed at before?"

She leaned back against the desk and sighed deeply.

"It happened a long time ago," she said wearily, "it's best that it stays in the past."

He moved closer to her, "what happened?" he asked in a tone that betrayed his determination.

She shuttered visibly and Snape move to stand next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders.  She was trembling slightly as he gently drew to her to him.  She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment before speaking again.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" she whispered.

"No," his answer was soft but resolute.

She drew another deep breath and moved away from him.

"What do you know about my husband's death?" asked Avonell as she walked to the chairs by the fire.

"Only that it was ruled as an accident," he replied.

She sank into a chair a faraway look on her face.

"You know what I am," it was not a question, but a statement of fact.

"That you are Sevlorian, yes," answered Snape as he walked over and sat in the chair opposite her.

Her expression was haunted, the fire light reflected in her eyes making them appear a darker shade of blue, as she starred unseeing, lost in memory.

"Lucius Malfoy was working for the Ministry of Magic even back then.  He was also rising through the ranks of the Death Eaters.  He was out to make a name for himself, wanting to get in tothe good graces with the Dark Lord, so he used his connections with the Ministry to gain access to information not otherwise obtainable . . ." her voice trailed off and she was silent for several moments before continuing.

"He was able to gather enough evidence, put enough of the pieces together that, like so many before him, he mistook extreme longevity for immortality"

"Your not immortal," he stated softly.

"No," she said turning her eyes to meet his.

"But with your powers of healing . . ."

"It's fare easier for me to heal someone else then to heal myself," she told him a faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth, but it faded quickly, "To each action there are consequences."

Snape nodded, remembering how weak and vulnerable she had been after his healing.

"Malfoy was convinced that I held the secret to eternal life and was determined to take that secret to Voldemort."

She turned to stare into the fire, gripping the arms of the chair in an attempt to hide the trembling in her hands.  Obviously these memories were not easy for her.  Snape was beginning to regret having pushed her to this.

"I understand," he told her gently.

"No, I don't think you do," Avonell said, the trembling now in her voice as well.  She turned back to face him, "Lucius showed up one afternoon, while my husband and son were gone.  I was caught off guard, and he tried to take advantage of the situation, first trying for seduction, and failing that . . ." she drew a shuttering breath "I was able to fight him off, but I was disheveled by the struggle.

"Determined to get what he had come for, he threatened to expose me for what I was," she looked away again.

"You don't have to go on," Snape told her softly, reaching out and placed his hand on hers, but she withdrew from his touch.

She shook her head and continued slowly, "When it became apparent that threats weren't going to work either he went into a rage, demanding that I give him the secret he sought.  I tried to tell him there was no secret, but he – refused to believe me," she fell silent again.

"I've never seen anyone so enraged," she whispered hollowly,  "I don't think he meant to kill but . . . he put so much force behind that curse . . ." she swallowed hard, trying to blink back the tears welling in her eyes.

"When he cast his curse, I had no time to react and was barely able to diverted it," she drew a ragged breath, the tears overwhelming her attempts to hold them back. "I didn't see Basil enter the room just as I . . . I," she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip. 

"He took the full force of the curse," Avonell continued her voice slightly higher in pitch then was normal for her, "it was a quick death, but hideously painful."

Snape said nothing, there had been many rumors about the death of Avonell's husband, but this had not been one of them.

"Our son had followed his father into the room by a few seconds, Lucius was thinking faster then I was," she wiped the tears from her cheeks, "He accused me of casting the curse.  That I had been trying to seduce him and had cast it when Basil discovered us," she raised her eyes to look deeply into his, "I never knew if my son believed Malfoy or not, but he never forgave me for his father's death," she was struggling to maintain control.

"I'm sorry," whispered Snape, truly meaning what he said.

"Severus, I'm grateful you came along when you did.  I'm not sure what Malfoy would have done, or I for that matter, if you hadn't been there," she continue holding his gaze for several more moments before closing he eyes again.  "I'm sorry Severus, but I am tired and I do have a class first thing in the morning."

"Are you . . . going to be all right?" he asked.

She could tell his concern was genuine, but whished he would just go.

"I could stay if you need me to," he offered softly, regretting what he had just put her through.

"Thank you, but no," she answered him not meeting his gaze.

He sat there a moment or two longer, knowing the depth of the truth she had just shared with him, and understanding her need for solitude.  Slowly he stood and moved to the door, but before his hand reached the knob, he turned back to find her standing facing the fire.  He could see her trembling, fighting to stay in control of her self.  A choked sob escaped her in spite of her best efforts.

Snape cover the distance between them swiftly, turning her into him and cradling her in his arms, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I'm sorry.  I had no right to push you, to make you remember," he whispered in what he hoped was a soothing tone.

Gently, with out malice or anger, she pushed him back.

"Please Severus, I really need to you go," she told him with difficulty.

Snape nodded and reluctantly left.

***

Over the next several weeks, work on the scroll went untouched.  It only when Professor Snape had shown up at Avonell's office one Saturday afternoon in early October, demanding that they work on it, that the two Professors settled down for another go.

After two hours they had identified small words like: the, of, is and in.  As well as a few longer works such as: there, from, and, has and you.

Avonell was seated at the desk pouring over the parchment while Snape worked on the blackboard.

"We must be wrong somewhere," he snarled, backing away from the board, "that's not a word."

Avonell looked up and went very pale, Snape had written H-I-E-Y-E-L.  Slowly she stood.

"Maybe not in English, but in Sevlorian . . ." she picked up a piece of chalk wrote the word a second time, placing an apostrophe in the middle, "It's pronounced Hi-yeel" her voice barely more then a whisper.

"What does it mean?" asked Snape.

Avonell didn't answer.  She had snatched up the parchment and had begun writing franticly on the board.

"Would you mind telling me what's going on?" he demanded hotly.

The chalk she was using crumbled under the pressure of her writing.

"This is no good," she muttered, tossing what was left of the chalk back into to the tray.

She bolted down between the rows of desks.

"Stay there," she ordered, "I'll be right back."

She disappeared into her office and reappeared a few seconds latter with the computer in her hands.  Snape watched as, facing the blackboard, she opened the notebook and slid the parchment next to the keyboard.

"What is that thing?" scowled Snape in distaste.

"It's a – computer," she answered shortly.

"Muggle technology doesn't . . ."

"It's not Muggle, and it does work," she interrupted him, "now let me work!"

He watched in amazement as her fingers dance over the keyboard with the precision that only comes with prolonged use. Glancing between computer screen and scroll, with an occasional glance at the blackboard, her expression became graver as she worked.

Snape move in behind her to peer over her should and watch as letters appeared on the screen.  From time to time Avonell stroked a small black panel below the keys and the point at which the letters where appearing changed.

Slowly words where beginning to take from.

" . . . Instructions for the use and operations . . ."

" . . . there are know to be six . . ."

" . . . six symbols representing the . . ."

The longer she worked the more Avonell's hands began to tremble, until she was unable to continue.

"CIM," she snapped in an authoritative tone, "extrapolate and complete!"

The screen went wild, missing letters popped up at random all over the screen.  A minute or so latter it stopped.

Snape leaned further over her shoulder to read the last line.

"Yours in alliance, Nefra."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Avonell muttered swaying slightly on her feet.

Instinctively Snape put his hand on her waist to steady her.  She leaned back into him for the support it offered her.  He found this very pleasing, to have her against him like this.  Suddenly she pulled away.

"CIM, I need a hard copy of this," she called starting back towards her office door, Snape following after her.

"What is going on?" he demanded.

"We've got to get this to Dumbledore," she answered hurriedly, "I'll explain on the way."

She retrieved a peace of paper from the bookcase behind her desk and turned to face him, he face pale and there was a hint of fear in her eyes.

"This is not good," she told him, "this is so not good."

She rolled up the paper and headed for the door.

Avonell never did explain anything on the way to the Headmaster's office; she had nearly run the entire way.  It was only after they had stepped on to the moving stairs that would take them to the office door, that she said anything.

"If this message has been replaced, if Voldemort has allied himself with Nefra, there's going to be some real trouble," she told him.

"Who is Nefra?" asked Snape deliberately.

But before she could answer him, they reached the top of the stairs and she burst through the door into the office.

"Albus, we have trouble," she announced as she crossed to his desk.

Dumbledore looked up from his writing.

"This message is from Nefra," she said brandishing the paper, but didn't actually giving it to him, "it's instructions on how to use the hie'yel ports."

"Who's Nefra?" the Headmaster asked calmly.

"Oh, he's only my biggest adversary, and he would stop at nothing, I repeat nothing to see me eliminated," she explained agitatedly, starting to pace.

"And an hie'yel port, what is that?" was Dumbledore's next question.

"It's a transport device.  It can get you from point A to point B hundreds of miles away in a matter of seconds," she continued gesturing dramatically with the rolled up paper she held.

Snape tried to grab her wrist but she moved swiftly out of his reach.

"He knows about the port here at Hogwarts."

The two men exchanged puzzled looks.

"The mirror in my room?"  She pointed out, "but it's not operational at the moment."

As she past him, Snape made another try for the paper, but missed again.

"If this communication has been replaced, and I have reason to believe that it has, then the Dark Lord has a powerful and alien ally."

On the third attempt, Snape succeeded in catching her wrist.  Giving her a stern look he removed the rolled paper from her hand and gave it to Dumbledore.

Avonell collapsed into a nearby chair as the old wizard read the message.

Dumbledore looked up as he finished reading and handed the paper to Snape to read.

"And what is this Kurr that is mentioned?" he asked still calm.

"A drug, a very powerful drug.  I know what it does to me, but I'm not sure how it will affect a wizard.  Although . . ." she looked up at Snape as reached up and touched the spot behind his left ear where the puncture wound had been.

"And how does it effect you?" asked Dumbledore, drawing her attention back to him.

"It leaves me completely helpless," she shuttered violently, "I can't defend myself, not physically or mentally," she paused, "I think he may have experimented and used it on you, Severus," she added looking back at the Potions Master.

Dumbledore turned his attention to the younger wizard. "what effect did this Kurr, have on you?"

"I passed out at first, but otherwise as she described," his body tensing at the memory.

Avonell nodded, "Voldemort doesn't know the dosage yet.  It doesn't take much to work.  If the dose is too much, it will cause unconsciousness at first."

"It was like being really drunk," Snape explained, "except that I remember everything that was said and done."

"Oh yes, your completely aware of what's going on, you just can't do anything about it," Avonell nodded, "it's very fast acting and quite slow to wear off," she shuttered again, "it's really nasty stuff."

"You did say the port in your rooms is not – operational?" Dumbledore pushed on.

"I removed the key as soon as I knew it was here," she assured him, "but there's one at the hospital and I have been using it to get there to treat the Longbottoms.  I may have to stop using it now."

"And where is this Nefra person?" asked Snape.

"I have no idea," she shrugged, "but I'll see what I can find out," she paused, "I don't think he's here, at any rate.  But it may be difficult to track him down."

"Well, it seems then we have nothing to do except wait.  At least for now," Dumbledore concluded, "Good work, both of you."

"Headmaster, I didn't . . ." Snape started.

"Thank you Albus," she cut in, "I couldn't have done it alone."

Snape gave her an odd sort of look and she half shrugged in return.  She stood and started for the door.

"I'll let you know if I find anything," Avonell said as she opened the door.

Dumbledore looked up a Snape, who nodded and followed after Avonell.

He caught with her near the stairs leading to the Front Hall.  She had been moving quickly and was slightly out of breath when she saw him.

"Something else?" she asked tersely as he reached her.

He started to answer.

"The translation is complete Professor, you're quite welcome to go back to hating me," she quipped mildly and then turning on her heal, sweeping off.

Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation and headed back to the dungeons. 

***

"Professor," called Harry, his voice betraying his annoyance, "Professor, you're doing it again."

Professor Avonell snapped out of her reverie with a start.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, "I'm sorry.  I've just got a lot on my mind today."

"That's the second time in the last hour," Harry complained, slumping back in his chair.

It was Sunday afternoon.  With Harry's rapid progress with the Technique, he was seeing the Professor twice a week now.  This session she had had him trying to move a large glass marble across the table using only his thoughts.  But twice now he had found her starring off into space, her mind somewhere completely different.

"I made it move, and you weren't even paying attention," he whined.

Avonell looked down.  The marble, which had started out directly in front of her, now rested near the center of the table between them.  It had moved nearly ten inches this time.

"Ok," Avonell said, picking up the marble and putting in back in front of her, "one more time."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, "are you going to pay attention this time?" he asked.

"Don't you get surly with me, young man," Avonell warned him.

"You've been preoccupied all afternoon," he said sternly, "what's going on?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned with," she said absently, clearing away a speck of dust on the table's surface.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her.

"That's not true," he stated slowly and deliberately.

Avonell raised an eyebrow at him.

"Just because you can Truth Read, doesn't give you the right to always act on that knowledge," she told him.  "You've got Hermione thoroughly spooked, much more of it and you're going to loose her friendship."

Harry frowned, he knew she was right, but didn't like having to admit it.

"Now move the marble," Avonell said in a harsh whisper, as she leaned forward.

Harry fixed his gaze on the glass sphere and it shot off the table.

"That was a little over done," sighed Avonell exasperatedly.

Harry jumped up from his chair and leaned over the table at her.

"I don't see how this is going to help me if Voldemort tries to cast an Unforgivable curse at me!" he shouted in frustration.

"It's all about control, Harry," she returned sternly, getting to her feet as well, "an undisciplined mind will have no chance at deflecting or disbursing even the simplest of spells."

The locked stares for several heartbeats, before Harry sank back into his chair.  Avonell too returned to her seat.  She drew a deep breath and looked at the marble on the floor several feet away.  It stirred then rose in a graceful arch, landing gently in the palm of her hand.  She placed it back on the table in front of her.

"Now," she said softly, "let's try it again."