A big thanks for your support and encouragement in this story to the following writers with their wonderful stories:
rickfan37 who has written Snape In Love;
Gwenn who has written Redemption,
Spider (not here yet)
and last and definitely not least The Stars Hold Nine Serpents who has written Un Livre des Herbes Foncées, A Dark Herbal
I want to love you but I better not touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stopI want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison running through my veins
You're poison.
Alice Cooper
"I love you," she said, shocked that it had slipped out of her and it was too late for wishing it back.
He blinked and she waited for the sound of retreat.
(from Chapter thirteen)
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison.
Chapter fourteen
"What did you say?" he demanded quickly.
"You heard what I said", she replied, afraid but outwardly proud, her heartbeat pulsing loud in her ears.
"I heard you, but what was the meaning?"
"The statement was quite unambiguous," she countered, puzzled.
"You spoke in Phoenix."
"Oh."
Thank all the blessedness under the stars.
"I spoke Phoenix did I? How extraordinary. I thought I could only speak that in Fawkes' company. Odd. How can I speak to someone in a language that I have not learnt, nor they understand?"
"Elrin, what did you say?" he persisted.
"I said, 'My darling.'"
He was still for a second or two, his predator's face grim.
"You lie to me. I saw the truth flash across your face and I saw a lie take its' place."
She squirmed, trying to avoid his penetrating eyes, her cheeks flushed. Taking a deep breath, she admitted quietly, "I said – 'I love you.'"
There, it was out. She had nothing left to hide.
He had no need to search her face because he knew it was the truth, and so remained looking at her.
"Don't lie to me again," he said, as cool as the dungeon floor.
That was the worse thing he could have said. She could feel her own disappointment in herself through his eyes and her heart sank and on top of that she had declared her love dangerously soon.
Then he added, "Especially with Phoenix."
Ah, now that made sense. So it was ultimately about the Phoenix.
Something cracked in her. Disappointment, protection, fear all rose up within her in one tide of anger.
"So that is what it is all about in reality – Phoenix, all Phoenix," she said furiously, getting up.
He was puzzled at the ferocity that shot out from her and from whence it came, and so kept a blank face.
"My – seduction – all this treatment was so you can translate your precious Phoenix – well, I've got news for you – it's not going to happen."
He appeared frozen, his face continuing to be a blank but then out of clenched teeth came "Elrin, don't do this to me…."
But she was on a roll.
"Don't Elrin me, you're the typical snake in the grass. I should have known better."
With his face pale and both hands clutching the armrests, he watched as she made for the door, but other than that movement, made no sound.
"I will leave you alone with your ineffectual potions and your rotting parchments," she snapped, a parting shot that she knew would penetrate him to his innermost core. "Good day" and slammed the door behind her.
Out of the door she began to shake and to berate herself for her stupidity. As she ran down the empty corridor, tears flew out. She couldn't believe she had been so high and was now brought so low. But everything seemed so clear now. He was so desperate to get the manuscript completed that he had – pretended to – have made love to her so that she could be persuaded to translate.
He was the liar, not she.
A small voice deep within her protested that it didn't feel like that, it had felt real, but she crushed it with the facts. Why would such a remarkable man like him be attracted to someone such as her? It was ridiculous when one thought about it. He was highly educated, had a solid position by the side of the greatest wizard of his age and he was the best potion master in existence, and he came from – from what she understood, from an ancient line of wizards. Even his evil phase had a certain class about it. And who was she? Someone from the suburbs, from a Muggle household, from a dismal, unimaginative, unadventurous family with no pretensions to anything at all, no decent education, and although she had done what she could to remedy that situation and read widely, it was an uphill trek against the tide of indifference and puzzlement. Getting qualifications meant something to them, because that heightened your job prospects, but not for the sake of it, for the sake of discovery and passion and understanding. He was powerful, clever to a fault and so, so wholly desirable. He had aimed his beam at her, first because he suspected her of subterfuge, then so that he could get his translations done. What a fool she had been. Flashes of despair and love on his face when she was ill came shooting through her head and they stabbed her heart, for they were only at the thought of his disappearing translations.
Veering round a corner, she nearly ran Dumbledore down and he was another one who wanted her for the same reason, that she was useful – all the special treatment and for someone who was a nobody and so she flew past him without a word, robes and hair waving out behind like a curtain in a hurricane and left him watching her flight from the dungeons, which was where he was going that very minute.
Her room felt cold when she went into it, not so much physically cold, as empty of her own vibes, empty of attention, just empty. She needed to recoup. She needed to sit down with herself and work out what she was doing there because she had just cut off her only source of support and if she was not careful, her employment as well. There was none now that she could turn to and there was nothing left. She lay there on the bed, fully dressed, clutching her pillows, but without crying. She couldn't afford to cry. She had to think her way out of this mess, but all she could see was a black hole and worse still, she could still smell him on her body. It was beginning to get dark outside and it remained dark for a long time. She heard something battering against the windows, but ignored it, and eventually it went away, whatever it was. Then it began to get light again, and the pain of her thoughts had her clutching the inner turmoil within her stomach. And then it was daytime and again the scratching, battering sound against the windowpanes and again she ignored it and after many beatings, it went away, and it was silent again. It was a force of nature, to be ignored. And could hear distant sounds and then it got dark again and she began to be hungry, but ignored it and the feeling went away and then as it began to get light again and she realized it was nearly breakfast time, the weekend over. Her thoughts had just driven her round and round in circles, with no way of escape, so solution, no help, no decision, except the one to go to meal times, to show up, to just stay as she was and see it through. She would avoid confrontation with him, would have liked to avoid him altogether but knew that it would not be possible and couldn't think further at this point. His very existence sent her brain off in a spin, so she would deal with one hour at a time. One day at a time.
As she went towards the Great Hall, her chin up and as upright as she could manage, she opened a side door only to find him walking towards it through the opposite way and both recoiled as if scorched by the very air that they inhabited. She remembered this happening before….before….so long ago it seemed, a lifetime away. He backed off like a proud animal, his head lowered, his robe swirling about him like protection. With a vividness that struck her afterwards, she memorized his entire face as if it were the last time she would see it, and it gave her a stab of pain within her core, but she lifted her head even higher, and swept past leaving him, she hoped, wallowing in some kind of pool of condemnation. So that was the end of that. As she took her seat at the table, she did not look at any individual at all if she could help it, and managed to get a seat where no one had to sit next to her and she sighed with relief. The antagonism that she had felt there before seemed less hostile or perhaps she just was not receiving anything and therefore nothing negative. She caught a flash of black over by the central part of the table and her eyes were drawn to it by their own force and it was he returning from wherever he had been going, to sit down and he did not look in her direction. She had been right about him, and he had not even protested. But he still had a strong motive for bending her to his will, so she would have to be on the lookout for her heart and keep it well guarded. She poked at her cereal and stared at her toast. Coffee seemed the most welcome. She did not see Severus shifting only his eyes to her when he could, nor feel his cold appetite, nor be near enough to see the disenchantment in his eyes. She hoped that Dumbledore would not try to talk to her, for she feared she might get nasty. She was a coiled firecracker waiting to go off, so she jumped when someone appeared at her elbow just as she was about to leave the table. Xiomara stood looking at her.
"Hello," she said as an intelligent opening, because that was all she could manage.
"Hello," said the Quidditch teacher, "would you like a stroll round the garden with me before the beginning of classes?"
She couldn't think of any reason why not, and with her new determination in place, would appreciate the stretching of some time over the space of an hour with something, anything to get her out of the prison that she was in.
When they got outside, to her surprise it was not cold, but quite warm, but with a breeze. With cloaks, they were fine.
"Xiomara, I really wanted to apologise for everything," she said, feeling uncomfortable. It seemed that everything was almost normal between them for the few minutes, so it seemed odd to have to return to a difficult time in which she had behaved inexcusably. "I know nothing can take away anything I said or did…"
"I know you did not do anything voluntarily," she said.
"Nevertheless, I remember everything, or at least, nearly everything, and that which I can't remember, I would rather leave forgotten quite honestly. The other is bad enough." Said Elrin, pushing away an odd stone, and was startled, for it got up and ran away through some bushes.
"You can't go on punishing yourself,"
"No one else seems to be doing it," she said, with a sour laugh.
"There is a weird sort of light around you, you know,"
"What on earth do you mean?"
"You look terrible – sorry – you look as if you are going through a terrible time, yet there is a glow that you are giving off, a mixed message."
"When I envisaged talking to you, I imagined trying to get you to forgive me, and here you are trying to get me to talk about my problems. It seems pretty weird. Sorry, I find the idea of a glow a little ironic at this time. This is the least time in my life I think for glowing. More like standing in a black hole. I don't think I can go down much further. I'm so sorry. This is not what I meant to say. I have to deal with it. I'm sorry; I can't stay talking with you. It's not right." And she made to go back to the house, near to breaking.
Xiomara for answer grabbed her arm in hers and headed off down the path to a bare part of the gardens, more like a tidy field so they could get some privacy. They sat down on a log facing away from the building and immediately the tears began to flow and flow and flow and Xiomara sat there while Elrin sobbed and sobbed until there seemed nothing left. Handing her hankie after hankie, and rubbing her hand gently on Elrin's back, she soothed her gently back to herself.
"I am sorry."
"Oh, don't waste your breath," said Xiomara, "We all need to do that from time to time." No big deal."
Elrin smiled at the Muggle colloquialism…
"Do you want to talk about it?
"You've done a lot for me already."
"Do I have to wring it out of you? I want to know….I'm nosey."
Elrin found the honesty refreshing. "I feel rather..overwhelmed."
"No doubt, which is why you look completely stunned and distraught."
"I suppose" and she hiccupped "there are two things, entwined with one another and both of them have poison on them."
The Quidditch mistress made herself comfortable on the log, re-arranging her robes. then said, "Do I need to say this won't go further than me?" Xiomara was discretion itself, and out of all the women on the staff, was definitely the most closed mouthed. If it had been Professor Sprout, it would have been an entirely different matter. Even Madam Pomfrey was not altogether pure in this regard.
"Spill then."
"One is the Phoenix that Albus wants me to research. Is it safe to talk here?"
"Yes, its fine."
"Since I have been – back to normal, I have been afraid of – researching -, even though the talisman has been taken out of me – did Albus tell you?"
"Yes he did."
"I was so terrible, and had such terrible potential that I fear its return at any time, and am dreading doing any work on it. It involves me going right into it if you see what I mean."
"No, but I understand the principle. But it wasn't the Phoenix itself that was wrong surely."
"No, not exactly. I am still afraid though. I spoke some this morning, and I wasn't even aware of it and spoke it to someone who could not speak it as well. It's not the language I fear, so much as the sound that goes with it. It reaches such depths and heights that it is consuming in its power and beauty. Before, I didn't mind if it did so, now I am afraid of it because I might turn on everyone, even though logically, I know I probably won't."
"Where did you learn it? Have you tried again?"
"I learnt it from Fawkes and no I haven't. I can't get to see Fawkes without going through Dumbledore."
"And Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore I feel is pressurizing me to do the Phoenix."
"There is a complication."
"With Dumbledore?" Xiomara raised her eyebrows as far as they would go.
"No, with Severus. I am working with him on the Phoenix." Elrin realized she could not mention the parchments, but could manage to eliminate mentioning them. Their existence or non-existence would make no difference to what she was saying.
"We – we…."and she looked at the Quidditch teacher willing her to understand.
"Oh, oh," said Xiomara, a bit slow. "Oh right. You and – Severus have been –" words failed her as the thoughts did also.
"Yes," said Elrin before she could. "And it was – was wonderful." Xiomara blinked and tried not to show too much surprise. This was beyond her ken, though she knew the potions master had feelings for Elrin, which came out when she had been - ill. But that they had already been together was complete news to her. They had kept very quiet about it. What fun, she must be the first to know. She would hug this knowledge jealously and giggle as other staff remained in perplexity. The idea that being with him was wonderful was mind blowing. Fortunately, her tastes led her into what she hoped were safer waters.
"Then came the blow. I found out that really, what he wanted was the Phoenix, not me, and that I was just a direct route to the information he needed." She found she had to struggle to keep herself in check, "He had faked it so that I would speak it for him."
"Surely, you had been doing that kind of research anyway, and would be doing it again?"
"Not necessarily, with the state I was in after the talisman came out, I think he was afraid I would not do it, and he couldn't bear it." she sighed, "First he thought I was a spy…."
"A spy?" Xiomara laughed and the wind took it away into the fields beyond.
"Well, that's all right, at least that was not unreasonable. That's old history now."
Xiomara couldn't help but shake her head. Some peoples lives were so complicated and so full of events.
"Then this. And I cannot move for him in front of me, and Dumbledore behind me, and the Phoenix above me. I am simply at a standstill. I feel like one of those animals in one of Minerva's giant cages."
"Do you," and Xiomara balked somewhat at the question, but felt it necessary to ask " love Severus?"
Elrin winced at the question. All of her body, all of her soul and great chunks of her mind said yes, and her controlling manager said no.
"No. I hate him."
"Are you sure? It could be the glow I can still see, that still seems to seep out of you, despite your pain."
"Yes. No. Look, whether I do or I don't is not relevant. Severus has his – potions and his position. I know where I stand, and that is nowhere in the equation, and yet still ironically stuck in the centre. I – I cannot go back to my world and I really don't want to, but I am not really here either. It is real enough for me, and I understand you must find that strange, because you were always in it, but I am not sure I should be here or whether I will be magically snatched out of it, just as I trust its' reality. Severus was the first real thing, and now I find –" and she stared red-eyed into the distance, "that was not real either."
Xiomara thought for a while as they sat there in silence, then said, "I am not sure that I am qualified to have an opinion, but for what it's worth, I think that somewhere along the line, you are going to have to make a decision, to decide where your loyalties lie and go with them, wherever they are."
There continued to be silence between them for a while. It would soon be time for Xiomara to go for her classes.
Elrin was about to thank her for letting her talk, when a rustle from behind made them both jump for Severus and an accompanying black shadow was looming over both of them.
"Severus, I do wish you wouldn't do that," said Xiomara testily, "we are not your students!"
How long had he been standing there?
"Xiomara, would you be kind enough to leave me to have a word with my researcher?" He said menacingly, his eyes locked onto Elrin who displayed the nerves of a rabbit caught in the orbit of a Deadly Mamba.
Just what he wants. Well, I wont give him the pleasure.
"I will see you later, my dear," the Quidditch mistress said and marched away, glancing back from time to time. Severus waited until she was well out of hearing range, before turning on Elrin.
"What did you tell her?" he snapped, eyes enraged.
"Nothing about the parchments," she said simply outfacing him. "She knows nothing of their existence. She knows only what Dumbledore has told her. I told her a little of my own personal problems. Nothing of any significance. You should know."
Hey. That was a stab.
And he felt it by the twitch of his body.
"I want to do some work," he snarled.
"Well, good for you," she shouted stubbornly.
Don't let me stop you.
"I want you to do some work. That is what you are paid for, and by heaven you will do it!" he threw at her.
"Well, at least that is honest statement," and she glared at him, small hands clutched into fists. "Pity you couldn't have said that in the beginning, instead of taking the long way round."
He widened his eyes and looked as if he were about to blast her with his wand and even took a step forward, but she did not budge one fraction.
"Elrin…" he seemed as if he were about to say something, then stopped, absorbing the look on her face. "My office," he roared into the wind, "two o'clock" and whisked himself away, his robes threatening to take off with him in them.
After her breathing had returned to normal, she returned inside.