Thank you my gorgeous readers and reviewers. You're comments have been fallen upon with a mix of glee and terror….Thank you so much for being with me so far (though not finished yet…hah hah!)

I spent a little time researching rituals but personalized them and altered them to my own tradition and also made some up myself. You of course, are unlikely to know which is which, but never mind. Perhaps they are obvious. Hope no one is offended by my inventions. These rites are not intended to be accurate, though the principles they embody, do have, as far as I am concerned, a basis in wisdom.

So I would like to invite you all to a wedding, and I expect your best robes, flowers in your hair and no naughty wand work :o)

Acknowledgements:

Many thanks to Spider for reading these two chapters for me.  If there are any mistakes – they are not her fault….

Rickfan37 for the research info. About rubies and their supposed properties of warning of danger by darkening.

Idea from Smallville – The Early Years. Superman hovering over Lara.

Superwitch

Chapter 21

'There is no one left, but me. And soon,' he said sourly, 'there will be no one left at all.'

As he opened the door to his office, he plunged his hand in his robes for his wand and froze.

Are you holding your breath?

Chapter 22

Snapping into action after standing there for a moment or two, he unwarded his office, at the same time pushing her behind him and entered, wand at the ready. Papers were scattered everywhere – rolls of parchments and books littered the floor and he rushed over to an opened window to see a distant dot in the sky making its way towards the mountains. Cursing, he whirled round and charged into his own living room to seek the potions essays in the corner cabinet, rustling through them to find the parchments and just as importantly, the notes that were so precious. The top scrolls of the 3rd year essays had been rifled through, but whomever it was had given up on them and had not been thorough enough to find the manuscripts hidden below. It was close though: very close. The ruse of the ink blotched and occasionally barely illegible child's writing had fooled them into believing them to be insignificant in their hunt. Panting with relief, he stopped for a moment, arm steadying himself on the cabinet, hair over his face.

Elrin had looked at the chaos and the invasion with dismay, but like him, was just glad that what was important had not been stolen. The second violation of his quarters was disturbing however.

'How many damn wards does it take!' he roared. 'And how come Lucius was in Albus' study when this must have been taking place? He must be behind this! I am not fooled by his alibi.' He looked at her, maddened, 'Not many wizards could break my seal. Lucius is one of them!'

'Could he teach someone something like this?'

'Not….generally no….but he could teach how to break specific wards - if he had already done so himself.' he growled. 'It would not be easy, but possible, with considerable coaching. Right,' he said, moving from his supported position as if gathering himself up, 'You are going to Albus' quarters as soon as Lucius has gone, which one could assume would be about now, and prepare there. I will stay here.'

'There is no way I am going to,' she protested.

He half grinned, 'we cannot prepare together, remember? I was going to do so in his quarters and leave you here in mine; but I am certainly not going to allow that now. We have to switch.'

She succumbed to the sense in it and he added, 'I wish you to take the manuscript and my notes with you so that it can be in Albus' care. No one alive is capable of breaking his wards. I will come and get you at the appointed time,' and he waited for her answer.

'We have hours yet, not for - ' she said.

'And we need all of them. First you need to rest, sleep.'

'Sleep?'

'You know it is part of the ritual. I will give you a little Sleeping Draught, just a couple of drops, if you feel you cannot do so.'

'Won't it knock me out, make me drowsy?'

'No, you should wake up refreshed.'

'Alright.'

'Then you know about the cleansing ritual in the evening, don't you?'

'Yes,' she replied automatically, as he had schooled her in the rituals carefully.

'You can use Albus' magnificent bathroom. I will do exactly the same here, and I will definitely need a draught myself,' and he moved back into the office to fix her a tiny phial of potion.

'But then you are unprotected.'

'They will not be back now we know, and I will add some new complicated wards with bells on. Henrietta can look out for me if you wish. I will set her on guard.'

She looked at him a moment. 'Oh, your owl, yes, that sounds like a good idea.'

'Would you like me to tell Xiomara that you have gone to the headmaster's so she can bring your clothes after your cleansing?'

'I will tell her myself on my way,' she said, 'thank you.'

'Are you alright?' he asked quietly, coming closer.

'I am fine,' she said. 'I'm….nervous….but fine.'

He took her face in his hands and bent and kissed her gently.

'I love you.'

'I love you.'

'I will see you when the time comes,' he said.

She lay in the plump and snug bed in Albus' guest room, staring at the ceiling wide-awake and worrying. How long would it take before Voldemort reacted to Severus' refusal? Not long she suspected. Malfoy would dissapparate almost straight away to tell his master and Voldemort would rage and instantly desire revenge. She shivered, pulling the sheets up around her neck, their smell different, nice, soothing, but different. How could she sleep even with the drops from the potion? The bed seemed enormous; she wanted Severus' comforting arms and legs around her, his hair in her face, his feet rubbing her calves.

Albus had been welcoming. She wasn't sure how he would react to an invasion of his private quarters of a woman, but he was fine and totally at ease. He had told her that he had much to do that afternoon with the preparations, but that she was to make herself at home, ignore the comments of the mirror on the left in her room and do exactly as she wanted. If she required anything, she could pull a long thick cord hiding behind the door and someone from the kitchens would come and see what she needed. As her first task was to sleep, the massive curtains needed to be closed and that was a job for a wand, so he did that for her, wished her a peaceful sleep and bowed out leaving her in the dim light with some very quiet, drifting kind of music, a circulating sound of soft drums which oozed into her body and her brain, gradually lulling her worries into silence.

She was lying on cold stone, her arms rigid out beside her: on them a vice-like grip from some restraining material. Pressed against her body was the damp and the dripping dark while about her some grim muttered echo sounded close, too close. Drenched in pain, her head rocked from side to side. She felt that she had been there for hours, maybe days. Stiffly she tried to look about, but could only see a chink of light under a door some way away and moving wasn't much better since she could not move anything below her neck. Pain thrust its way through her body, from where she was not sure, and the shock and the intensity shattered her sensitivity and she cried out silently, 'Severus! Where are you?'

Laying her head back onto the unyielding stone, she imagined seeing him above her. Then twitched as she realized that he was indeed above her, looking at her down from several feet with his arms crossed as if he were contemplating. The potions master was hovering horizontally, as if mirroring her own body, his black robes almost touching her as they fell down around him. There was no movement and no sound from him otherwise.

'Severus…help me!'

There was no response, but the quiet calm of his meditation, his eyes glowing black and deep, his head tilted forward in loving attention and his strange levitation bewitched her into quiet. She stared at him for a while, contemplating him contemplating her and then whispered 'my darling….I need you.'

In her horror she saw him gradually disappear and awoke in sweat in Albus' guest room, panting, clutching the bedclothes. It took her a while to calm down.

I thought I was supposed to awake refreshed?

Gradually she drifted off again and slept deeply and well. When she awoke again it felt much later and there was no light sneaking through the curtains.

Asking the time of a clock at Dumbledore's was a risky affair, but she tried it.

'Well, it depends on what you consider the right time to be,' it answered, pleased to be able to disconcert a visitor. 'Time would become meaningless if there were too much of it,' it continued.

'Just tell me what hour it is,' she snapped, not serene after dreaming of being strapped down in a dungeon somewhere with no apparent rescue in sight.

'Well, if you are going to be huffy!'

'I shall rearrange your insides!' she threatened.

'Ooo…' he mocked.

The mirror behind her bed told her calmly and firmly that it was time for her Cleansing Ritual and a couple of large candles in the room automatically lit for her.

'How do you know that?'

'It's my job,' he said gruffly, but not without kindness.

Despite the dream, the second sleep had done the trick and she did feel considerably better and quite active, so she leaped out of bed, clutching her bathrobe quickly so that the clock and the mirror would not see her skimpy attire. Pulling the rope, a house-elf appeared whom she did not know and she asked – first of all if Winky was all right, and then for some tea and sandwiches.

'Winky is busy Madam Elrin,' she piped.

'Of course she will be, how silly of me. It's a frantically busy day. Everybody is busy. Except me, and – Professor Snape,' and then sighed.

The elf looked at her as if she was barmy and popped away.

She thought that Severus would probably be indeed be going barmy himself, not being able to be part of the ceremony in his usual capacity, rounding up students, barking at them, protecting them, harassing them. He hated the role, but he would be lost without it.

The bathroom was indeed magnificent. She could only reach it via the same kind of stairs that led to Albus' office, as she stepped onto the stairs, they began to move in a circular motion upwards, and it was quite some minutes before it stopped at a huge door. By the window, she could see that she was high up in the school. Inside, it was more like an underwater cavern. A vast array of mirrors at different angles and candles of different sizes surrounded the huge pool. There was a peacefulness there that was difficult to define. It oozed from the walls, was in the air and insinuated a subtle reassurance into her body and her mind. It reminded her of the unicorn and oddly enough, there was a small low relief sculpture of one over the door, as it galloped through some trees under a moon. Under her bare feet, she squidged her toes into the soft deep carpet as she approached the pool and as if on cue, the host of candles lit themselves so that the room was lit with a golden radiance, glowing from the mirrors. Managing to turn on the gigantic baroque taps, they soon roared hot water out to fill what seemed more like a lake. However, it didn't take long and experimenting with one button, she found that it shot a spray of tight wild roses out into the water and they swirled and settled onto the surface. Throwing off her bathrobe she examined herself in the mirrors that appeared to have a non-steaming spell on them. She hoped they would keep any rude remarks to themselves.

She didn't look too bad.

As she lowered herself in the blissfully hot water, the roses nudging up against her, and the smell of frankincense and lilac that she had put in enveloped her in their strength and tranquillity. It felt like such a luxury to be bathing like this, as if it were full of asses' milk and she the Queen of Sheba or was it Cleopatra?

From a table nearby she checked what she needed – a bowl of clear clean water, some oil of myrrh and – that was it.

Would they have a marriage night? Was she preparing for death? He surely would be.

These thoughts insinuated themselves into her mind while she went through her preparations and tried to ignore the pain of them as much as possible. Her ache for him grew more as she went through the ritual she had learned the week before, which almost seemed a long time ago.

Finding that she had to address Deep Magick, she found that she could do so fairly easily by remembering that it had been that Source that had brought her here, had put them together, had, through the Phoenix culture, ultimately translated the manuscript and transubstantiated the potion.

'Deep Magick,' she invocated rather self-consciously, then glanced at the mirrors and wondered if they were going to laugh or scorn her. 'The Source of all that is….bless my feet, that I may follow carefully along the path of the wise.' She had to wash her feet while saying this and make a little sign on it with her finger.

'Bless my sexuality, without which none would tread the path of the wise,' and she marked herself accordingly. She thought of him while she did so, and an ache tore through her and she had to stop for a little while to recover.

'Bless my Solar Plexus, that I may have mastery as I tread the path of the wise,' marking herself below her breasts.

'Bless my heart that beats with pain and compassion while travelling upon the path of the wise.' Over her heart she traced a tiny image and thought of his own heart pressed up against hers. A tear fell down her cheek and plopped into the water and she brushed it away impatiently.

'Bless my nose, that I may breathe in your essence within the wind, while I travel upon the path of the wise.' She thought of his essence, the enigmatic presence of him, the magnetic strength of whatever it was that expressed the core of his being: the dark side of him and the hidden light of him. She thought of his scent and the headiness of it made her feel dizzy, the smell of his hair and his skin and she thought of his nose, large and demanding and brushing softly against her skin. She touched her own small nose with water.

'Bless my eyes that I may see with clarity all the choices that you present me with upon my journey along the path of the wise,' and as she touched her eyelids, all the while his eyes haunting her from behind them. She didn't think that she should be thinking of him alone. Perhaps she should be thinking of higher things, but the pull towards him was like the pull from a drug, insistent, intense and endless.

'Bless my ears that I may hear the voices of wisdom while I travel along the path of the wise.' She tried not to think of the sound of his voice ranging from purring lovingness in her ear to his whip cracking sneers and his almighty roars. She shivered with the vibrations that echoed through her mind.

'Bless my lips that I may speed through the dark night of the soul and utter the sacred ecstasy while I travel along the path of the wise.' and as she touched her lips with water, she thought of the Serpent sex and their own ecstasy and of his lips, warm and urgent and calling her name.

'Bless my mind with revelation and comprehension of all things while I travel along the path of the wise,' she intoned. That was something that she felt that she certainly needed as she touched her forehead.

'May Deep Magick with its' power and beauty bless my Self as I travel along the path of the wise,' she said, raising her hands above her head. And those I love she added silently.

Finally, as she traced a tiny mark on each palm, she finished with:

'Bless my hands that I may skilfully do your work as I travel along the path of the wise.'

Slowly, gracefully, she sank under the water, and then slowly rose again. As she sat up, she was acutely aware of how her previous life seemed an eternity ago, another world, as if it had never existed, or existed in her imagination only. She tried to imagine what her life would have been like without coming here, without Severus, without Fawkes and the parchments and without Dumbledore. Without the castle and its' maddening corridors and weird staircases, without Hagrid and Winky and Dobby and Xiomara and Filius and prim Minerva: even without Lucius, although the thought of Voldemort was going a little too far. Without him life would indeed be wonderful, but she wondered if it would be the same. Would everyone stand out in such beautiful colours without him? Would they have come together without his machinations? Would they be the wonderful people and other beings that they were without this menace? Without the dislike of her previous life, would she been pulled here? Without that irritation, without that friction, she might have sunk without trace in the mire of boredom and survival, doing what other people wanted, no, demanded of her. Living a corpse life, a half-life. Wondering at Severus' call for her and maybe her own subconscious desire for him, as she had crossed some ocean of time or space to join with him, the ways of Deep Magick were indeed mysterious and wonderful. She wondered, not without a sense of disturbance, what it had planned for their future or did they plan and it carry out their deepest intentions? She would have to ask Fawkes about that.

Later, after she had finished her ablutions and was drying her hair in the guestroom, she heard a knocking and Xiomara entered, carrying a huge bundle before her that presumably contained her dress and a wide-eyed small student walked behind her with other various items. Thanking her, she turned to Elrin, who suddenly felt small and vulnerable. The arrival of the costume that she had ordered days ago heralded the reality of her situation.

'You look scared,' announced Xiomara. 'I'm not surprised, tackling all this on your own,' she said as she plumped herself down on the bed. Elrin wasn't sure exactly what she was referring to, since she could not know about Severus' crisis, but she inwardly acknowledged that she did feel isolated, and doubted her ability to be equal to such an enormous event including the looming aftermath. She was glad to see the Quidditch teacher who had arrived with a breath of energy and humour and a welcome freshness of femaleness at this particular time.

'It's good to see you,' Elrin said smiling, 'I haven't had the chance to speak to you for ages.'

Sending to the kitchens for some refreshment, though Elrin ate little, they chatted on about things, gossip about Filius finding a partner who was at least three feet higher than he, about Hagrid's new pet escaping, and Ron's blunder in the Great Hall. 'Poor lad,' she said, 'in front of Hermione too.'

'Oh, you noticed that too!' Elrin replied, laughing. It was a while since she had laughed properly and it felt good.

'Gosh, yes,' said Xiomara, 'I've been watching him suffer for ages. Such fun,' and she sniggered.

They spent some time giggling and discussing the ceremony, and previous Beltanes, and then her outfit. Xiomara was useful with the wand when it came to her hair.

'I'd like it glossier, sleeker. In the night air, it will just frizz up. Anything you can do?'

'Of course,' she replied, and in between trying to remember a new spell for this very thing and some mutterings, Elrin's long hair ended up having waves and curls at the ends right down her back, smooth and sleek, which she said, was almost permanent. 'Tell me if you want to change it,' she said.

'I can't imagine it, but thanks.'

'You are going to have it down, not up?'

'Yes, I think it will go better with the dress.'

'Good.'

'I prefer it down too.'

As she spoke, she peeked out of curtains to see activity from over the other side of the lake; figures dashed to and fro, a great fire lit, like bonfire night. Her stomach turned over.

'You'll be fine,' said Xiomara, distracting her by getting her to put her dress on since she already had her underwear on.

'Is it time?' she asked, her breath short.

'Yes. Let's get this outfit sorted before Severus comes to get you.'

She wasn't sure if she wanted him that minute, or that he would never come. The two seemed compatible in her head.

Standing there in her petticoats she waited patiently until Xiomara had lifted the dress out of the bundle and the burning red shock of colour emerged, filling the room with its' power.

'In my world, it would generally be white.' Never before had she referred to her previous life but Xiomara was nonchalant about it.

'Really? Well, the May Queen is in white.'

Wonder how Hermione is doing? Is she as nervous as I am? Probably not, she is quite a self-possessed girl.

She allowed her companion to lift it over her and fit the bodice at the back. The bodice itself was a curved structure of crimson antique lace and velvet and tied with laces at the front. It was the only intricate part of her outfit, as the rest of it was a sweeping simplicity in smouldering red, the long skirt part of it falling like water around her and behind her as a long pointed train. She still had the half-ring round her neck.

'You need to wind that round your wrist when you have your gloves on.'

'Then it would leave my neck bare,' she replied.

'Severus will bring something for you,' Xiomara muttered, adjusting the skirt in a little.

'How do you know?'

'It's customary.'

'Oh, what about the gloves, where are the gloves?' said her friend as she dug into

the bag of items as she retrieved long gloves, ending over her hands in a point, which echoed the pointed v of the bodice. 'Shoes, shoes,' she muttered and found them too, long pointed Victorian style shoes with a curved heel.

'What have we forgotten?'

'Xiomara,' she hesitated,  'would you do the make up spell that you did for me, you know when, only not the vamp look I asked for?' This was the only time she had referred to something specific when she had turned against them all, and Xiomara had borne her cruelty.

'Of course, a more natural look then, perhaps with a little extra sheen – for the night lighting and to fit with the red?'

'You do what you think is best,' she laughed, relieved that the Quidditch teacher was not angry with her about it. Whenever she remembered, she looked upon that episode with shame and revulsion.

There were still some things to do to the outfit, making changes here and there, a tuck here and a loosening there, but at last Elrin stood before her ready.

'You look terr…'

Then Xiomara gasped in horror at her forgetfulness and dived down and opened another package that had fallen on the floor. Out of it she produced the cathedral veil with its' ancient gold circlet which was plain and dark and thin in places to hold the acres of the burning red silk that looked fragile and soft enough to fall apart. The endlessly long veil looked almost as transparent as Nearly Headless Nick but like him, seemed to have a mind of its own and it was just as Xiomara fussed to put the finishing arrangement to it, that they both heard a booming sound on the outside door: not the guestroom door, but Albus's main door.

'Oo,' giggled her companion, 'Shall I hide?'

'No,' said Elrin, regaining her composure, though scared now beyond reason.

Why be scared? You're crazy. It's only him.

She lifted her skirts up and held the train and the bottom of the veil in her arms and slowly went out into the office taking her time: she felt like a goddess in a haze of deepest fire.

He knocked again, 3 times.

Xiomara made it down the stairs to call 'Who is there?' her words correct for the ritual and swiftly arranged her train and veil for her again in front of the closed door.

'It is I, Severus Snape who has come to seek his love.' The formal words boomed through the door and sent her breathless leading her to rearrange her veil though it was unnecessary. Aware that she was biting her lip, she tried to calm her breathing.

'Who is your love? Her companion asked.

'My love is Elrin Danse.'

'There is no-one here by that name,' recited Xiomara.

'My love is there. I will break the door down.'

'Break the door then, there is no-one here.'

'I demand that you hand my love over to me. I will not move from here until she is mine. I speak for the last time.'

The hairs on the back of her neck rose as he spoke. Although they were words of ritual, she did not doubt, by the timbre of his voice, that he would do so if necessary. Xiomara then opened the door with a flourish.

He stood there stunned and she in turn was stunned. His costume was a dark, dark green; a supremely tailored version of his normal frockcoat, elegantly buttoned and high necked. Over it was an elaborate cloak, which fell softly and completely to the floor and moved as he moved. Partially hidden underneath it was an elaborately decorated scabbard presumably to hold his wand. Instead of his normal shoes, he was wearing black boots and almost irrelevantly, she noticed that his hair had been trimmed. He looked so very much himself, standing there in all his power and presence, which was powerful enough, but he also looked as if he had stepped down from Mount Olympus.  Instinctively, her aura flared to greet his and then it was that she was aware of her own pure power.

'I am she for whom you are looking,' she managed to say eventually as they spent some time just looking upon one another. Their lone audience was beginning to wonder if they would continue with the customary words.

'Lift your veil. I would see you.'

'Lift it yourself, if you would see.'

Thereupon he strode forward and his physical reality entered her senses. A flash of how he strode towards her when she had been sorted into Slytherin went through her mind and she felt not dissimilarly now, just before she fainted. He lifted her veil and threw it back

'Do you wish to be taken?"

It took her more than a second or two to reply, and for a moment she could see what might have been fear flash through his black eyes as he searched her face. Elrin however, held herself in dignity, though her impulse was to want to reach out and hold him tight.

'I do wish it.'

'You are a vision to me,' he said.

'And so you are to me,' she replied.

Xiomara shook her head. That last bit wasn't in the ritual.

They stood so long looking at one another that she decided that it was time for her departure and slipped out of the door and left them to silence.

As he stared at her fixedly, she realized that something was different and she waited. He kept his gaze on her, until she succumbed to ask if anything was amiss. A slow smile spread across his face, a deep strange glow that filled her with happiness despite her apprehension.

'I am no longer a dead man,' he articulated slowly.

'Severus….please tell me what is going on?' she was halfway between some kind of unknown joy and irritation. In answer, he pulled out a tightly wrapped blue-black handkerchief and gently spread it out to reveal the phial that he had used for Remus, crystal clear and beautiful, gleaming in the light.

'I thought it had gone with the jar. I must have, in my excitement, put it in my robes, where I carry emergency potions.

'You carry potions around with you?' she asked irrelevantly, still in some kind of shock.

'I do, always.'

She stared at it stupidly, then looked up into his eyes. 'You want me to take the Patriarchium.' It was not a question, more a statement. She had agreed before about taking it, but now it was the reality before her, and the sudden turn around made her sick with dizziness and the thought of taking it made all the warmth in her body depart.

At least he would be safe. He was out of immediate danger.

Now fear for him had transferred to disquiet about herself. He observed her whitened face and quickly sat her down in one of the chairs. She felt the familiar comfort of his dark presence as he bent over her. Instinctively, she lifted her arms up around his neck and pulled him down to her, his robes falling on her, breathing in his familiar scent as they crushed together, the sombre red fire and the dark green.

'My darling, I'm afraid,' she whispered.

'I will do nothing without your say so,' he said softly, rocking her, murmuring something underneath his breath.  She lay there on his chest, he uncomfortable but not minding it and she knowing it was uncomfortable, but accepting his discomfort because she needed him right there that minute. She could feel the half-ring on his collar rubbing on her forehead as his lips moved.

'What are you saying?' she enquired.

'Just healing words, comfort words.'

From someone whose words could easily cut and dice, slice and maim, this sentence shot through her body, and she held him tighter and felt the gradual rise of courage. At last, she moved. 'I'll be fine,' she said, shifting.

Holding her by the shoulders, he searched her face.

'Elrin, I don't want you to make the decision until you feel able. I will not speak about the options. We both know what they are. Tell me what you want to do, what you want me to do. I am in your hands. I will do whatever you desire. I love you whatever you choose. Just tell me when the time comes and I will do your bidding.'

'Let us go then, 'she said, chin raised. He lifted her up by the hand and then paused.

'I have something for you,' and he dug into an inner pocket and lifted out another silk piece of material to reveal a necklace and earrings. She took the necklace carefully, and noted with a smile tiny thin golden wings outstretched reaching out as part of the chain and in the centre was a radiant star and reaching up to it was a writhing serpent, its' forked tongue licking the star: a blood red ruby glowing as it's eye. The earrings were six-rayed rubies as stars.

'See,' he said as he went forward to put the necklace round her neck since it was the only way to get it on. His face close to hers, he murmured, 'my life is yours as the serpent belongs to the star. That fact is unalterable whatever happens. I would not change it. See how it glows a strong and vibrant now. It knows it is home. It can warn you of danger if it deepens in colour and vibrates. And that is not all it does. Press the ruby in the matrix here and it will summon me to you. Wherever you are, wherever I am, I will come.'

'It's so beautiful,' she said, awestruck. It reminded her of an incident that had happened earlier.

'Severus, I saw something while under the Sleeping Draught,' she said as she stopped to put the earrings on.

For a moment, his face clouded and he halted and turned to her rapidly. 'What happened?'

'I was imprisoned in a dungeon, very uncomfortable, very real. Then – I called for you, and you – hovered above me – and then you disappeared.'

'Are you sure? Was that all?'

'Yes, why?

'Lucius. As if he wasn't doing enough harm already. I – was making the spell for the necklace and he must have been tapping into you at the same time. You saw me because I was working on it. He could not actually harm you, and now I will always be there on that astral plane to protect you. He was just lucky because I was working on this.'

'Well,' she said, 'I have something for you.' His face registered nothing, but she could see that this was an event that he was not used to. Finding the box on the table where she had left it, she gave it to him. His hands felt clumsy opening the tiny box and as he was opening it, she spoke slowly.

'There seemed very little that I could give you, and I realized that there was only one thing that I could give, and that was myself. I have little else.' He took the ring out of the box and gasped in delight at it.

'It is beautiful,' he said.

'Periot I understand,' she said, 'an Infinity Poison Ring. Apparently, the gem was found in a meteorite 300 years ago and was made into this ring. I had help from Albus in choosing it. I don't understand why a green jewel is an ancient symbol of the sun, but that is what he told me, and that it is said to bring peace and purity of soul and to help protect against evil.'

As if it could possibly protect him against the most malevolent wizard in existence.

He opened the intricately carved ring with its' green Periot jewel on the outside and inside was a small lock of her hair nestling inside. He half smiled at the thought that she probably did not realize that to give such an item of herself was a token of love indeed as he then had the power to use it magically, for good or ill.

'Thank you,' he said, pushing it onto his right hand, bowing. Right away he took her veil and placed it gently back over her face, shrouding her vision in a red mist, saying,

'I think we should go now. Apparently we are the May Spirit Couple this year. Minerva has just informed me.'

She looked alarmed. 'Who are they?'

'A mature bonded couple to complement the youth of the May King and Queen. We need do nothing very much. I had thought to avoid it.'

I bet you did.

'We're not bonded yet.'

'Not officially, but Minerva said that we would be perfectly satisfactory since privately we are. Do you want me to refuse?' he asked.

'No,' she said.

Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.

'In that case, I have my charger waiting to carry you off, and if I am not mistaken, the festival is waiting for us.' As they went through the door, she said looking back to him, 'I thought that was a figure of speech.'

The crisp cool of the evening was like a shock to her as they made their exit from the main door and a strong smell of hawthorn and bonfire permeated the still air. It was dark but the entrance was lit with flares and in the flickering light of them, stood a unicorn. Gasping with delight, she rushed, if one could be said to rush in an attire like hers to its side. It looked exactly like the one that took them out of the forest. It was the one and it seemed to recognise her. Nuzzling her with its soft velvet muzzle it appeared quite eager, and she had to be careful not to be caught with its horn in its excitement but she buried her head in its silky mane, smelling the sweetness of it. She turned to Severus. 'Is this your charger?' she giggled. She had imagined he would have had Aelfesdine, though they would not have found it easy with that temperamental animal.

'Yes,' he smiled. 'It offered, so I accepted. Through Hagrid of course. So, madam, if you are ready, would you like to mount?'

She was so thrilled. 'Will he take two?'

'Easily.'

So he lifted her up first so that she was sidesaddle, though they would be bareback, her dress taking some positioning. All of the veil as well as the train needed to be hoisted to the other side so that it fell below on the ground.

'It will not tread on it, do not fear,' he said, arranging it as best he could. Then he jumped up behind her and she felt the warmth and solidity of his body pressed against hers while he held her firmly in position. It was such a pleasure to incline back into him and since he was not steering, could feel him enclosing her in his arms, her thighs close to his and leant back into his chest. Gradually, she noticed little flickering lights on the ground that showed the pathway for the unicorn, and discovered that they were some kind of wood being and could hear their chattering if she listened hard enough.

Gradually they wound their way round towards the festival ground. Thoughts threw themselves up in her mind as she knew she had to make a decision and quickly too.

Could she trust Severus to nullify the poison? What if it went wrong? What if she never returned to her own freewill, her own essence, her own choices? What if she remained a child, a servant, a Golem, someone whom Severus learned to despise, and he fell out of loving her? What if he began to hate her, to hate what he had made? What if in anger, he returned to being – she couldn't even continue the thought. What - almost worse still - what if she started to hate him, since she could not say what she wanted to say if it contravened his opinion or wishes. There could be no denial from her, no refusal, no protest, no personality away from his approval, and without which she could not affirm herself. She would be little more than a dummy and she would be lost in this world or another, adrift. He was powerful, powerful enough to trample her opinions into the ground at this time, let alone without her own self-determination. It was only his love that dealt gently with her as well as her own growing sense of ability and self-possession.

She clung to him in her panic, but the gentle tempo of the steed gradually soothed her fears, the cool night swirling its' summer scents around them as they established the slow, unicorn rhythm: the movement of poetry and midnight songs and loving kindness and it was if the unicorn spoke to her in her anguish.

And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

As they moved around the lake, she could see the school rising up behind it, tall and magnificent and glowing warm from the lights just beyond her sight behind trees and bushes. From the glow in front, she could hear the sounds of laughter and music and the smell of the bonfire even more strongly now, and still the scent of hawthorn blossom haunted the air around them. She wondered how Severus was feeling, his chest warm against her, upright, and steady, both their bodies shifting together with the musical gait of the unicorn. He wouldn't know whether he was going to live or die, whether she would refuse the Patriarchium, and would have to refuse it on her behalf, and refuse to poison her as well, or whether she would accept it. His openness in allowing her complete freedom to choose, not to try and persuade her, melted her and she squeezed him again.

'Are you alright?' he asked, and she could feel the arch of his nose against her cheek and his breath blowing lightly against her silky veil.

'I'm fine,' she said.

 Without moving his head, he growled, 'Don't lie to me.'

She smarted with the rebuke, but noted the justice of it, then asked him if he was all right.

How would a man going not only to his wedding but the gallows feel?

'I am going to my destiny. Why would I not be alright?'

He is so formal. He is so confident, so certain, so much at home with his honour, with his beliefs. This is his world: this is not my world: I am a newcomer, a 'stranger in a familiar land.'

The sounds of festivities were suddenly upon them and a blazing hot light revealed the vegetation around them and a multitude of dark shapes in front, and before she knew what was going on they were within the perimeter, elves moving aside so that they could enter the circle in a blaze of red and dark green and glowing white.