Olivia had not been idle since her return from London. Classes and grading took up much of the witch's time, but she also devoted quite a bit of effort to interpreting the mysteries unearthed during the dramatic conversation between deity and demon.
The debriefing Olivia had given Headmaster Dumbledore afforded her the chance to organize and analyze the events in the London sewers; enabling her to list the facts she knew, the theories she must investigate and the unknowns that brought her gasping and struggling out of horrifying dreams.
Her nocturnal torments centered mostly around the dark prophesies of an obscure madman named Surinim and what came to be called the Wedding of Light and Dark.
The life of Surinim ran pretty much parallel with that of other lunatic prophets of his day. The product of an unnatural union, he was raised by indifferent relatives, was shockingly gifted in magic and sadly lacking in cerebral marbles. Violent and unpredictable explosions of magic punctuated his growing up. The family moved frequently. Upon reaching the age of majority, Surinim announced his intent to see the world. His bags were packed and hauled to the exit of the latest gods-foresaken hole by his excited keepers and the young man received a fond farewell before the wooden door was slammed in his face.
Surinim wandered for years and not much is known about his life prior to his self-imposed imprisonment at the age of 106.
The insane wizard had sealed himself in a crumbling keep, passing in and out of a seemingly trance like state. While in these raptures, Surinim cried strange and foreboding messages from his window high above the surrounding countryside; floods, famine, grisly deaths at the hands of roving ogre bands, your usual prophetic fare. The occasional wayfarer would happen upon the ragged oldster bellowing dire warnings from the sealed keep and report the ramblings to the less mobile members of their society. That the ravings of the mad man frequently came to pass did not escape the notice of the local officials and it wasn't long before scribes were posted in great numbers about the tower frantically scribbling down each word that poured from the old fool's lips be it prophesy, profanity or demands for fresh meat and bread.
It was on a bitter, rainy midwinter day that Surinim's rambling took on a new, more urgent note. This prophecy spoke of the pre-damned union of Light and Dark. "For once Light be overtaken by Dark, all that dwells upon the earth will forever more be in shadow. He shall cover Her as the Moon covers the Sun and She shall bring forth an abomination. Dark will be reborn and Light shall be imprisoned in His form."
This and more did the prophet utter prior to casting himself from his high window. Several unlucky scriveners, focused as they were on their task, failed to notice Surinim's sudden descent and so accompanied the mad wizard on his journey into eternity.
Olivia had winnowed through the Hogwarts library attempting to locate anything pertaining to the prophecies of Surinim, but to little avail. Copies of this prophetic gibberish were rare, but there were hints in several Hogwarts tomes that some issues survived, hidden away in private collections.
Desperate for information, Olivia had dispatched owls to several renowned book dealers who specialized in rare and hard to find writings. The results were not promising. Only two copies of the Prophesies of Surinim were known to exist. One copy was owned by the Malfoy Estate and was currently on loan to the Museum of Magical History in Dublin. The second known copy was in the personal library of one Vertius Dillard.
With a groan Olivia buried her face in her hands. This was just too
sweet. Let's see, who to ask, WHO to ask? Which of the two would be the
most eager to assist? The right hand man of Olivia's demonic intended OR
the son of the man she had banished to Azkaban?
Olivia had entered Maxwell Dillard's chamber with a brisk, determined stride and settled herself uninvited into a cozy chintz chair. Thirty minutes later, the young woman was attempting to maintain control of that same determination.
"Let me see if I am understanding you clearly," Maxwell Dillard said languidly. "There is a certain book you need and Daddy is, or should I say, was the sole possessor of the volume?" As he spoke, the young wizard lazily coiled a strand of luxuriant black hair around one well manicured finger.
"Yep," Olivia answered. "That's about the whole truth of the matter." Well, she wasn't technically lying. She had said 'about'.
"Come now, Olivia. I may call you Olivia? I seem to recall that Lucius Malfoy owns a copy of the tome you desire. You and I are not what anyone would call friends. Why not inquire of Mr. Malfoy?" The lovely blue eyes studied Olivia closely, checking for any reaction to his question.
Her features remained calm.
"Maxwell, may I call you Maxwell?" Olivia inquired sweetly."You realize since that little incident with Draco my chances of gaining anything from Mr. Malfoy are decidedly slim. Now, I have asked you nicely. Would you fetch the book?"
Dillard rose gracefully from his chair before the merrily burning fire. Pouring himself a goblet of wine, he returned to his seat, a satisfied smile curling about his unnaturally red lips. "Olivia, it simply amazes me that you would come a-begging to me, of all people. Please allow me to savor the moment before I give you my answer." Dillard ran fingers through his hair, sighing deeply.
"Maxwell, you obviously don't know me as well as you would believe if you think I have 'come a-begging'. I have need of the book. You possess the book. You DO know where it is, don't you?"
"Of course I do, you silly woman! I know the exact book you speak of. I have a question for you, however. Just call it curiosity on my part, but why do you want the Prophesies?"
"That's really none of your business, Maxwell…" Olivia started.
"Oh, but I beg to differ. It is after all, mine to loan." Dillard took a slow sip from his cup, icy blue eyes never leaving Olivia's face."Or not."
Olivia huffed impatiently. She had known Maxwell would prove difficult, but she was running out of time. This farce had to end.
"Ok Max," she paused, hating the irritation that revealed itself in her voice. "What do you want?"
"Nothing you would be able to provide, I'm sure." Dillard smirked, tossing his hair back.
Olivia's eyes narrowed.
"I want to think this over for a while." Max began, then stopped."No, that's not quite true. I just want to have you squirm for a bit. I find it amusing to know that you need help from me. I am sure it must be as galling to you as it is delightful to me." He drained the last of his wine, giving Olivia a glittering, cold smile. "Come back tomorrow. We can chat a bit more."
Olivia rose majestically, her face stony, her green eyes hard and determined. "No Max, I don't think so. You have the book. You will bring it to me now."
Dillard laughed. "Or what? What will you do?"
Olivia froze him with her smile. Tilting her head to one side, she regarded the now wary wizard before her. "What will I do? Why, burn your hair, of course. Accio wig!"
Dillard howled in pain as the long, black wig was snatched from his
head. The charms holding the enchanted hair to his scalp had not relaxed
their hold willingly. A mist of lank hair dotted the the rapidly reddening
scalp. Angry, raw patches appeared on Max's newly exposed skin, illustrating
the magical design that had held the hair in place.
Like a limp black rag, the wig flew into Olivia's outstretched hand. Stepping to the fire, Olivia eyed Dillard's alarmed expression with satisfaction.
"I want that back right now!" Max roared, coming to his feet and making to advance.
"Ah-ah-ah, Max. The conditioner you use makes this mop very slippery. You wouldn't want to frighten me. I just might drop it and….POOF! You know how quickly hair burns, not to mention the stench." Olivia grinned evilly as Max froze.
His voice turned pleading, while his eyes began to water. "Olivia, you have no idea what you are doing." Max bleated, running one hand over his face. "I waited for years, YEARS, for that piece to be created. The cost alone…I mean…damn-it, Olivia! Give that back to me now!"
"I suggest an exchange." Olivia stated firmly. "The book for the rug. What's it going to be? Of course, I could always come back tomorrow. Give you the time to really think it over…" Olivia let the sentence dangle. With a wicked gleam in her eyes the cunning witch wrinkled her nose, sniffing. "Do you smell smoke?" She inquired sweetly.
Desperation washed over the bald wizard, dots of nervous perspiration breaking out over his face. Feverishly, he licked his lips, worried eyes lingering on the coal tresses dangling so dangerously close to the flames. He nodded.
"All right, I will fetch the damn book!" Max thundered. "Now give me back the hairpiece." He reached out pleading hands.
"Nope. Not so fast, Max. The book first. If you go by broom, I would say you could be back here in time for breakfast. You can join me in my chambers. I will even give your little fuzz-ball here a nice wash and set. How does that sound?" Olivia could be nasty when she wanted to and right now, she wanted to be very nasty.
Dawn found Maxwell Dillard tapping urgently on Olivia's window, a heavy tome clutched to his chest. He curtly refused her offer of coffee and rolls, but snatched the enchanted wig from her hands and hurriedly flew off into the mists.
Olivia poured herself a cup of rich hazelnut coffee, added a healthy dose of thick cream and settled herself down to read.
Two hours later she was violently retching into the toilet, her heart-broken sobs echoing back from the bright white tiles surrounding her.
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Olivia plucked at the blankets shivering as icy air puckered the bare flesh of her arms and shoulders. The night had turned bitter cold and wind moaned at the window casement; the sound blending into Olivia's dream to become chanting, droning voices.
Cold, tough hands snatched at Olivia and she cried out as the gown
was brutally torn from her body. Forcing her eyes open the young
witch took in her surroundings with growing horror. Tumbled walls
of rough-cut stone oozed tear-like trails of moisture. Clumps of gray lichen
dotted the damp surface in leperous patches while the reek of decay moved
through the air. Torch-bearing figures robed in black weaved in a loose
circle around the spot where Olivia cringed upon the stone floor, their
voices joining in hideous chorus. Scrambling to her knees Olivia attempted
to cover her nakedness in the loose curtain of her hair. The wind, dodging
between the circling forms, ripped at the long brown tendrils wildly, meanly
exposing her body to the night's eyes.
A low hiss cut across the chanting and Voldemort stepped into the
wreath of torch-light. Light from the flames reflected off the slick
black surface of his skin as he cast his robes from him and moved purposefully
towards the naked woman crouched upon the stone. Screaming in horror
Olivia lurched to her feet and attempted to force her way through the living
barrier, only to be thrust back into the arms of the Dark Lord. Thin fingers
wound their way into the tangle of Olivia's hair spinning her about until
her breasts were pressed against the cold flesh of Voldemort's chest.
"Eternity begins tonight, my lady." The demon laughed before bringing
his lipless mouth to Olivia's. She struggled to turn away, but cruel
fingers snarled in her hair prevented any escape. Voldemort's other hand
pressed into Olivia's lower spine arching her body painfully backwards
as his tongue slicked along her neck and moved lower.
Olivia fought. As choking screams flew from her mouth, fists
and feet battered at the corpse-like creature that held her. It was
as if she pummeled upon iron. Blow after blow was rained down upon
her attacker and struggle as she might, Olivia could not break free.
The chanting had ceased when the Demon Lord entered the circle and
now the sound of his triumphant laughter rose up with the howling wind
and wrapped itself around Olivia's screams. He released the thrashing
woman, allowing her to crash painfully to the stones.
"Lift her!" Voldemort commanded and several of the robed figures
stepped forward to clamp vise-like hands upon Olivia, raising her until
she hung suspended between them, her thighs spread.
Olivia's intestines rolled and she renewed her struggles as she observed
Voldemort drawing nearer, one hand obscenely stroking his erect flesh.
"No!"
The tortured bellow rang against the stones. Olivia lifted her horrified
gaze from the decayed figure before her to see Severus straining against
chains that bound him, helpless, to the far wall of the chamber.
His narrow face was streaked with blood and he struggled futilely with
the iron links. "Olivia!" The potions master's voice was thick with
anguish. "Olivia, set me free! Release me!"
Voldemort cackled evilly as he glanced back at the struggling wizard.
"A Champion is not much use when he is kept tied, is he, milady?
All the better for me!" And grabbing Olivia hips in a bruising embrace,
Voldemort slammed himself into her tightness.
Olivia pinched her eyes shut as wave upon wave of agony tore through
her body. It was not just the physical presence of this creature
driving into her that brought on the pain, but the animal-like cries that
arose from the black-haired wizard straining to save her. "Olivia,
release me!" Snape howled desperately.
Release him? How can I help him
now? Forgive me, Severus!
Opening her eyes, Olivia fixed her gaze upon Severus, tears of pain and
shame streaking her face.
Voldemort's fingers dug into the soft flesh of her waist, forcing Olivia's body closer as he pounded ruthlessly into her vagina. Leaning over her torso, his jaw hanging slack he worked his hands up her cringing body until they curved over her shoulders and there he held her as he continued his violation. Their faces were nearly touching and Olivia attempted to turn away, but was firmly held by her captors. She watched, horrified as his climax built, the face before her twisting with the exquisite pain. Slamming into her a final time, Voldemort threw back his head, crying out as pleasure surged through him. Before Olivia's terrified eyes a glittering blade slid into view and opened Voldemort's throat from ear to ear.
Hot blood fanned out over Olivia's face and poured upon her breasts
as the glittering red eyes dimmed and Voldemort's cries of release were
choked off into wet sucking sounds. Bucking and screaming, Olivia felt
the dead lord's flesh slide from her. Hands that had gripped her
so painfully during the rape now gently lowered her until she crouched
on all fours on the stone.
Olivia gasped as a grinding pain tore across her abdomen.
"Noooooooooooooo!" She wailed, watching as her belly swelled. Fire raced along her skin as it stretched and tore. Wrapping her arms tightly about her expanding waist, Olivia attempted to hold back the horror growing within. Gagging on the pain, she raised her eyes one last time to Severus, but he hung limply from his chains, the black eyes now glassy in death.
Blood sprayed from Olivia's lips as her belly exploded and Hell tumbled out upon the stones.
Olivia awoke gasping in fear, tears rolling down her cheeks. Wiping at the moisture with the corner of her sheet she squinted into the darkness, she was able to make out the luminous dial on her bedside clock.
4:30!
Oh my gods, Olivia moaned in her head. Another long, exausting day.
**********************************************************************
"Think she's sick or something?"
"Perhaps we should wake her up."
Olivia moaned as voices intruded on her much desired slumber.
"She's drooling!" A partuculary cruel voice added. "Probably drunk!"
"Shut your gob, Malfoy!"
Harry Potter? Here in her chambers? Olivia forced her eyes open, realizing with a shudder that she had fallen asleep at her desk and was now surrounded by seventh year Slytherins and Gryffindors. Feeling the sting of embarrassment rise on her skin, Olivia sat up in her chair and forced an expression of calm to her face.
The ring of students burst into helpless laughter, though some had the grace to attempt concealing their mirth.
"Miss McGonagall?" This from Miss Granger. "You have ink on your cheek, ma'am."
"Oh dear! Do I really?" Olivia chuckled. "I am forced to concure with Mr. Malfoy in this instance. I drool in my sleep."
Still chortling, the class moved to take their seats. Olivia allowed Hermione to remove the ink with a cleansing charm before the young Gryffindor joined her friends.
Olivia regarded the class evenly, arms folded over her chest. "Mr. Malfoy is, however, relying on circumstantial evidence and spite in making his pronouncements regarding my soporific condition. Mr. Malfoy, with consistant and unerring skill, you have once again managed to miss the target!" She pinned Draco like a beetle to a board with her eyes. " Ten points from Slytherin for your slander."
Silver eyes glared hatefully at Olivia from across the room. Turning to the board, she picked up a piece of chalk and began to place the day's lesson notes on the board. Over her shoulder Olivia spoke. "You will see me after class, Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes ma'am." Malfoy responded, his voice cold.
Two hours later, Draco sat alone in the room with Miss McGonagall. The rest of the class had tumbled noisily from the room, slamming the door behind them.
Rising from behind her desk, Olivia approached the young man slouched casually in his desk, a look of bored disdain on his face. Sighing inwardly, Olivia perched on a desk opposite.
"Draco, you and I have never gotten along. For some reason, you have gotten it into your head to not like me and your attitude carries over into your classwork." She paused as Malfoy rolled his eyes to the ceiling before letting them slide back to the slender figure across the aisle. Olivia felt her ire rising and she wanted nothing more than to pop the insolent teen on the back of the head. Biting back her anger, Olivia continued calmly. "Now, I can't make you like me. I can't make you respect me."
Draco snorted and grinned evilly.
"I can, however, make you display the necessary respect whenever you are in my presence."
Draco pulled himself upright and regarded Olivia coldly.
Ah! That got your attention, didn't it you little worm? She thought.
"How do you intend to do that, Miss McGonagall?" Malfoy drawled.
"Draco, have you ever been 'benched' ?" Olivia asked, a secret giggle bubbling in her chest at his alarmed expression.
"You can't do that!" The angry teen yelled, rising to his feet.
"Oh, but I can." Olivia countered, her eyes never leaving the trembling youth. "You see, I rarely open my mouth unless I can back up my words with hard evidence. I am referring to the Hogwarts Guidelines. Have you read them? Fascinating! I was glued to every word, believe me." Here Olivia slipped to her feet and walked quickly to her desk retrieving a slender volume bound in green leather. Opening the book to a previously marked page, she returned to Draco.
"To be more specific, I am referring to the section in the guidelines outlining student participation in activities other than the academic course work offered here at Hogwarts. It would seem that the Board of Governors sets a pretty high standard of expectations for students who wish to engage in extracurricular activities. Grades, behavior, attitude...it's all here in black and white. Well, more off gray and cream, but you get the idea. Would you like to read it for yourself." Here Olivia offered the book to Draco who took it from her and began to read the page.
"You see, Draco, I can have you 'benched' for each and every snarky little comment you bleat while in my class. I can also nail your Quidditch robes to that bench for insubordination, not to mention your lack of progress in this area of study." She watched as Malfoy closed the book and laid it on the desk top.
His face twisted in anger as he raised gray eyes. "You would really love that now, wouldn't you? Pay me back a bit?" Draco spat.
"Actually, no." Olivia replied. "From what I hear, you have the makings of an outstanding Seeker. I would not want you to waste your time on the bench when you could be honing your skills. Believe it or not, Draco, I don't lay in my bed at night plotting out ways to make you miserable. I spend my nights plotting out ways to make my classtime easier. For the remainder of the year all you have to do to stay on that broom is to show up in this room on time, hand in acceptable work and keep your mouth closed. Once you leave my presence, you can go back to hating me all you like; just don't let me get wind of it."
Draco stepped into the aisle and moved close to Olivia. Leaning near her face he growled, "My father is on the Board of Governors, Miss McGonagall. He will not appreciate you threatening me in this manner."
Holding firmly to the gray eyes before her, Olivia refused to be cowed by his nearness or size. "Your father does not concern me, Mr. Malfoy." She growled out between clenched teeth.
"Oh, but he should concern you." Draco whispered. "He has taken a keen interest in you, Miss McGonagall." Olivia stiffened as the young man took up a wandering strand of her hair, letting it slide between his fingers. "Don't know why really. He usually prefers tall, busty whores." The smile that touched his lips was one of ice.
"You will keep your distance, Mr. Malfoy." Olivia advised and watch in shocked satisfaction as Draco moved to a more respectful distance. He stared at his teacher in alarm before his well-school features resumed their habitual sneer.
"Father has asked for an introduction when he arrives for the first Quidditch match of the season."
"I look forward to it." Olivia responded evenly.
"Really? We shall see, Miss McGonagall. Oh, while it is on my mind..." Here Malfoy reached into an inside pocket of his Slytherin robes. "Father asked that I give this to you. I fail to see the significance, but then it isn't my place." He stretched out his hand. Dangling from his finger tips was a filthy bit of wadded cloth.
Olivia regarded the item curiously, then paled as recognition stung her painfully. Forcing her hands to respond, Olivia reached out and took the soiled hair band from Malfoy. Quirking her brow in what she hoped would appear to be bemusment rather than horror, Olivia quipped, "Most unusual gift. Did your father give you a message to go along with this ah... charming accessory?"
"No he did not. I trust you understand the significance?" Draco watched Miss McGonagall closely, his gray eyes hooded.
"Totally eludes me at the moment." Olivia managed to say as images of weeks ago tore through her memory. Besides Peter Pettigrew, there had been two other Death Eaters in the chamber with her and the foul Dark Lord. She had a brief image of a coldly handsome face framed in hair the color of captured moonlight. Hair much the color of ...
Draco Malfoy's.
Draco's voice penetrated the terror induced fog that seemed to fill the space in Olivia's head.
"Perhaps you could inquire of Father when he visits this weekend." The sneering teen stated.
"This weekend?" Olivia responded numbly. "Your father comes this weekend."
"Yes. This Saturday to be percise. It IS the first Quidditch match of the season." Draco had inclined his head to peer intently at Olivia, catching and holding her eyes. "He never misses it." The teen said firmly.
Nodding, Olivia turned and moving to her desk, dropped the hair band into a drawer. "Unfortunately, I have made plans for this weekend and will be away from the school. I will have to deny myself the honor of meeting your father this time around, Mr. Malfoy. I am sure he will understand."
"Mmmm." Draco murmured. "I will be glad to make your excuses."
"Please do." Olivia agreed. "Thank you."
"Am I free to go, Miss McGonagall?" Draco inquired cooly, picking up his book bag.
"Yes, you are free to leave. Remember what I have said, Mr. Malfoy. I stand by my word. I will have no more of your insolent behavior or inferior work in my class. Do we understand one another?" Olivia watched as the blond youth shouldered his bag, his eyes never wavering.
"We understand one another perfectly." Malfoy informed her in a low voice that reminded her a bit of Severus.
Olivia managed to remain on her feet and smiling slightly until the door had closed behind Draco, then she collapsed weak and trembling into her chair.
***********************************************************************************************
Olivia entered the Great Hall through the rear entrance located behind the teacher's table. Already the massive room vibrated with the sounds of student voices. The rattle of silver on china poked at her frayed nerves and the aroma of the various foods caused her stomach to knot. It had been a long day, and it was far from over. Olivia had sent an invitation to Professor Snape asking that he join her after the evening meal. He had accepted promptly and Olivia had been sweating out the hours until she and the dark wizard would be alone.
Of course they had been in each other's company on several occassions since their return to Hogwarts. Wednesday evenings had been set aside for the Dueling Club and thinking back on the past few weeks, Olivia regarded Wednesdays as the high point of her week.
But tonight...
They would be alone.
Together.
There was so much to discuss. Where to begin? What, if anything, should she leave unspoken?
Olivia would have given anything for three fingers of Jack Daniels right about now.
Making her way to the teacher's table, the slender witch gave a cheerful smile to Minerva and Headmaster Dumbledore before seating herself in her usual place beside the heavily robed Potions Master. A quick glance toward the Slytherin table assured her that Draco was present and currently holding court.
"Professor Snape." Olivia said by way of greeting.
"Miss McGonagall."
As her goblet magically filled with water and a twist of lime Olivia glanced at the sharp profile of the man to her right. His thin lips were slightly pursed as he gently blew over the contents of his raised soupspoon.
"Is it hot?" Olivia asked and then cursed herself for the obvious stupidity of the question.
"Of course not. The aroma is so delightful I was moved to share it with all those present." His words and tone were cold but Olivia noticed the tiny quirk at the corner of his lips as he sipped the creamy broth.
Snorting, Olivia helped herself to a platter of roast and vegetables, making sure she ladled on a generous helping of rich brown gravy.
Snape watched as Olivia helped herself to the mountains of food. He had noticed her pallor over the past few days. Her cheeks usually glowed with vitality and good humor. Lately, she had appeared pale and wane. While this concerned him, he would not allow the beguiling woman at his side to see the depths of his solicitude. "Miss McGonagall, why do you insist on drowning your meal in that lubricant? It cannot possibly improve the flavor, nor your health."
"Its called gravy, Professor Snape." Olivia ran her finger around the edge of her plate, wiping up a bit of the brown liquid that threatened to spill onto the white table covering.
"A common euphemism for grease." Snape muttered darkly as Olivia sucked the liquid from her finger. His eyes lingered on the pink lips puckering around that lucky digit before rising to meet shadowed green eyes. He read the worry, the disquiet in her gaze before she turned with a small shrug.
"Your grease is my gravy." She tossed back to Snape.
The wizard watched in delight as a lovely blush rose from the collar of Olivia's robes and worked its way up her throat into her face. It was like watching a crystal goblet slowly fill with wine.
"My grease?" he asked, the silky tones teasing and low.
Olivia fidgeted with her fork. "You know what I mean… Now, let me eat." And the nervous witch applied herself to pushing her food about on her plate.
Professor Snape contented himself by reading the Daily Prophet, casting occasional glances at Olivia. She made no real attempt at eating. Several times the laden fork would rise to her lips to hover a second before slowly returning to her plate. This concerned the Potions Master no small bit. Olivia usually attacked her plate like a starving beast. It is a good thing she runs as much as she does, Snape had often mused; else she would be the size of Hagrid. But tonight….it was clear something troubled her.
Could she be concerned about their meeting for this evening? Was she frightened of him? Once more, the potions master noted her pale cheeks and bruised eyes and his unease increased.
Folding his paper and laying it aside, Snape leaned as close as decently possible considering the number of eyes in the chamber and spoke softly.
"Olivia, does the thought of meeting with me tonight so unnerve you that your typical embarrassing zeal for nourishment has flown?"
Startled, Olivia turned to face him.
"No, no!" She murmured softly. "It is not you. Its just that what I have to tell you might… well, I am concerned about what your reaction will be." Olivia watched as his face hardened and his eyes became veiled to her.
Leaning back into his chair, Snape regarded Olivia coldly; his tone when he spoke, equally chilling. "You believe I may harm you in some way?"
Once more Olivia gave an unlady-like snort, waving one hand in a dismissive gesture. "Good grief, Severus! I know you would never hurt me. It is just I have learned so much over the past few weeks and the telling of it…." Her attention drifted once more to the Slytherin side of the Great Hall in time to catch young Malfoy eyeing her intently.
"I would much rather wait until we are alone before I go into details." Olivia muttered behind the rim of her goblet.
Severus ceded to her wish for privacy and leaned back into his chair as Olivia continued to pick at her food.
After a few moments of awkward silence, she spoke.
"How many students will be trudging down to the dungeons following dinner tonight?" Olivia's obvious play at changing the subject prompted Snape to take pity on her, once more revealing to the dark wizard the depth of his regard.
"Impossible as it may sound, I have not assigned detention to a single student. My time tonight is yours to command, milady." Severus dabbed his lips and neatly tucked his napkin beside his plate. A steaming cup of tea materialized at his elbow as the professor relaxed into his chair. Keeping an eye on the boistrious student body, Snape was able to observe Olivia's delighted grin from his perfreial vision. That they would soon be alone together caused Severus' heart to beat faster.
Sparing the canny wizard a
sideways peek, Olivia whispered, her words skipping across the white table
covering like pixies. "Severus, if you tell me where you have stashed the
bodies, I will help you dispose of them later tonight."
"Madame, you wound me with your lack of faith in my ability to control my more-ah, shall we say, primitive impulses." The smile shining in his black eyes did not reach his lips but Olivia could hear it in the low, seductive tone of Severus' voice.
"So," Olivia continued. "No students in detention; no students stuffed under the flagstones of your office. However did you manage this? Were the children simply more bidable today or did you dose the entire school population with a calming potion?"
A healthy snort from the noble nose to her right answered her questions.
"Miss McGonagall, you are looking at a wizard who is a master of control. The rein on my temper is gently, yet firmly held in my competant grip. Through sheer will power I was able to ignore infractions and blunders that, on any other day, would have earned the miscreants the full weight of my displeasure." The dark silk of his voice slid lower; became, if possible, even more carassing. "For you, I have denied myself the joy of cringing adolecent frames. For you, I have forgone my delight in eyes and mouths agape in stupified fear. For you, and the pleasure of your company, I have refrained from assigning detentions to students who, but for the grace of the gods, would have blown this castle to kingdom come." Here he paused to sip from his cup. Placing the empty container on the table, Severus glanced at Olivia from the corner of his piercing eyes. "All for you."
For the first time that night Olivia turned to fully face the black-robed wizard, her green eyes filled with admiration and a bit of wonderment. "Severus, I am not teasing when I say how much I appreciate what you have endured. I can only hope it will be worth all that you have gone through."
So do I, madame. Snape thought smugly, then added aloud. "You also owe me a box of quills. I shredded at least half a dozen before the final bell."
Olivia's snort of laughter was buried behind her hand.
Severus pushed his chair from the table, but paused before rising. "The students should be in their respective houses in an hour or so. I shall meet you in your chambers at 7:30" So saying, the professor rose and bidding the others at table a good evening, smoothly left the hall.
Olivia's heart trembled in her chest. Risking another glance at the Slytherin table, she was pleased to notice Draco missing. Olivia knew that Severus needed to be warned about the threat lurking in his own house. She wondered how he would take the news.
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Olivia's scalp hurt from the frequent changes in hair styles she had been attempting over the past hour. Frustrated, Olivia regarded her reflection, tapping the brush against her pursed lips. She was searching for something elegant, yet not cold; something alluring but not cheap. Something........
Damn! Damn! Damn!
She finally brushed the lot into a soft twist, pulling enticing tendrils to float about her cheeks and lay temptingly along the nape of her neck.
The loose gown of pale green floated about her like a wave on a summer sea. A froth of creamy lace demurely concealed the tops of her breasts and spilled from the sleeve cuffs in a soft foam.
The house elves had been delighted to provide Olivia with a small, intimate tray for two. Select chocolates snuggled close to firm, ripe strawberries and if she wondered about the presence of the fruit so far out of season, Olivia kept it to herself. Several varieties of cheeses lay spread among thin, crisp wafers and a bottle of chilled white wine rested in the near-by stand.
The faint chime from her clock was still sparkling in the air when a sharp tap-tap sounded upon Olivia's door. Stepping briskly to the portal, Olivia pinched both cheeks to deepen their color before turning the latch.
The figure of the potions master was captured inside the yellow slice of candlelight escaping Olivia's chamber. He was garbed in the same robes she had admired during that first dinner at Hogwarts. Familiarity with the garment did nothing to lessen Olivia's appreciation of it or its wearer. Sumptuous black flowed from Severus' broad shoulders, the rich fabric held in place by the same flame-eyed serpent that had stared at Olivia all those weeks ago. His face above the elegantly tied cravat appeared calm; his lips relaxed; his brow smooth and temperate. He had left his hair down and the black strands brushed along his olive cheeks before blending into the dark camouflage of his robes.
Stepping backward, Olivia opened the door wider and indicated with one hand that Snape should enter. He did so without a sound. Midnight shadow momentarily eclipsed green fire as Severus passed into the room, his robes flaring out wide and snatching at the trailing hem of Olivia's gown. His scent lingered, teasing the anxious witch with its fascinating blend of lemons and rain washed glens.
Severus stood beside one arm chair, his eyes moving over the contents of the trays before settling on the open bottle of wine. He turned his gaze to Olivia as she approached and lay a narrow hand upon his arm. With great effort, Olivia checked her desire to stroke that arm.
"May I take your cloak, sir?" Olivia asked with a grin and felt her heart flip over when Severus gave her a slight grin of his own.
Goodness! He is beautiful! Olivia thought to herself as the wizard unclasp the serpent pin and allowed her to pull the heavy fabric from his shoulders. Turning, Olivia lay the cloak carefully over the back the chair and then froze as warm fingers skimmed over the tiny hairs on her nape. She sighed as heat flooded her body, forming a boiling pool deep in her belly.
"Olivia."
Severus' breath moved over the delicate shell of Olivia's ear, strands of his hair swaying against the exposed skin on her shoulder. "Olivia, if I may be so bold..."
"Yes," she gasped, pleading. "Bold. Yes. Please." Thoughts of Draco, Brigit and Rosemarie's Baby flew from her mind as Severus' arms, sensuous velvet serpents, curled about Olivia's waist, squeezing, binding her to the firmness of his body. Angling her head back until it rested against Severus' check, Olivia groaned softly, feeling the moist heat of his lips pressed to the tender juncture of shoulder and neck.
Bringing up her hands, Olivia folded them over his sinewy arms, pressing herself further into his embrace. She shivered violently as his tongue slicked liquid fire up the pale column of her neck before dancing along the edge of her ear.
"Sweet." Severus purred against Olivia's skin. "So sweet."
"I've missed you, Severus." Olivia confessed in a choked whisper.
"Have you?" He breathed against her skin. "How much?"
"Enough to cause me to ache with wanting you again."
Olivia tilted her chin, offering greater access to the questing mouth gliding over her shoulders and neck.
Supple hands now fanned out over Olivia's ribs, roaming upwards to curve neatly under her breasts. Flares of desire shot outward from where Severus played, spinning and leaping from nerve ending to nerve ending; lighting signal fires throughout Olivia's body until every cell was aware of the tender siege.
"You ache?" The vibration of his words resonated through Olivia's spine straight to her heart.
"Yes." Olivia had closed her eyes, leaning fully into his strong embrace. "Yes." It was barely a whisper.
"Good." Severus pronounced, briskly setting Olivia away from him. Striding across the small space, he stood, arms folded, by the crackling fire. His expression was one of smug accomplishment.
A bucket of ice water, a slap to the face, a flobberworm dropped down the back of her gown could not have startled Olivia more. Mouth agape, she stood staring dumbly at the floral pattern of the chairback. The still glistening trail of kisses captured the cool air of the chamber, heightening her sensation of abandonment. The shocked witch pressed palms to stinging cheeks, drawing in a trembling breath.
"GOOD?"
Did he say, "GOOD?"
He said, "GOOD."
So, he was in one of THOSE moods.
A wicked smile worked its way across Olivia's face while an equally wicked idea threw itself at the iron bars of its cage, demanding to be set free.
Glancing saucily over her shoulder, Olivia tossed Severus her most dazzling smile.
In her head the click of a lock was heard.
Snape's superior expression slipped almost imperceptibly at the brilliant smile coming towards him from just meters away. His mind clicked into higher gear as he considered the calibre of the mind lurking behind that lovely face. He could testify to Olivia being his match when it came to mental excerises, and he hoped and prayed that whatever devilish delight she was plotting echoed the lascivious ruminations that had intruded upon his stoic calm for the last few days now.
"So, Severus," Olivia began, her voice low, sultry. "How have you been?" Gliding toward Snape, Olivia allowed her hips to lead the way and her heart grinned evilly at the hungry flare that rose in his black eyes.
"I?" Snape responded dryly. He didn't have any other choice. Olivia's slow stalk had stolen the spit from his mouth. "I have been..." Here Severus' eyes darted to the fire in the hearth before flying back to the fire in Olivia's eyes.
"...aching." His usual facile glibness failed him.
Like iron to a lode stone, Olivia was drawn to the body of the man before her. The time for games had ended. Teasing would cease. There was only the need to feel each other, to hear and speak words of love, tenderness, understanding.
Severus crushed her hurtling body to him; locked his hungry arms about her trembling frame. He shuddered as her form melted to his, molding to fit each curve. Olivia's hands reached up into the silken flow of his hair, running her fingers along his scalp and pulled his face down to where her lips were waiting, eager and parted.
Sanpe's sigh became a moan as Olivia's lips claimed his. She had
never been the timid one when it came to displaying her regard for the
dour professor and now Olivia lost herself in him and feasted completely
on that which she had long desired.
The taste of him filled her mouth as Severus swirled his tongue past
her eager lips. Rising on tip-toe, Olivia tilted her head, allowing
Severus better access as his lips left hers and slid down her cheek, along
her jaw and finally to the tender spot below her ear.
"Ahhh!"
Olivia was unaware she had cried out until Severus pulled back, his hands fastened on either side of her flushed face. "Did I hurt you?" He whispered, concern clouding his eyes.
"What?" Olivia attempted speech through the fog of lust that filled her brain. "Oh, no! You didn't hurt me. No." Hungerly she fastened her lips to his, nipping at the sensative roll of flesh; sucking the bottom lip into her mouth and gliding her tongue over its surface.
Snape shivered as Olivia ravaged his mouth, her tongue dancing over his own and tickling wickedly at the roof of his mouth. Her small, slim hands played through his black hair and then moved quickly over his shoulders, under his arms to loop about his waist, hugging him tightly. Whatever animal had been released by his small taunting of Olivia was not about to be caged anytime soon. It tugged and nipped, licked and scratched at Severus until he felt he would plummet into madness.
Heated hands roved with wild abandon over Olivia's slender frame. Pressing his hands down her sides, Severus paused briefly at Olivia's hips before continuing on to grip her buttocks. The round fullness of her tail filled his hands; he lifted and pressed her to him. The heavy growl that rumbled from his chest was echoed in Olivia's throaty purr as she wiggled her hips upon the ridge of flesh straining against Snape's trousers. Olivia pressed her face into hollow of Snape's throat, feeling the heat rising from his skin and the blood pulsing madly through his veins. His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse with passion, his breathing shallow.
"Olivia, that night in London..." He faltered, unwilling to bear himself to anyone; but he needed to know. "That one night, I touched heaven. I want to touch it again." Snape's lids drifted close as Olivia's arms tightened fiercly about his waist. Swallowing, he continued. "You stated your affection for me. I need to know if you feel that way still."
Pulling back enough to allow her to peer into the black depths of Severus' eyes, Olivia blessed him with a tender smile.
"I told you, 'I love you' that night, Severus." Raising a hand, she gently stroked along his cheek, her thumb brushing over his passion swollen lips. "I loved you then." Here, Olivia kissed Snape's chin, her tongue flicking out to rasp over his skin. "I love you still. I will love you for always." She could feel him shudder against her body as her words penetrated his mind and heart, so Olivia was startled when Severus pulled from her embrace, holding her by the shoulders at arm's length.
His features were stern when he addressed her. "Olivia, I realize you summoned me here tonight for a purpose, this-" He waved one hand between them both, "not being it." When Olivia made to speak, Snape silenced her with a look. "I must advise you, however, that since our return from London, the delights I experienced with you have not been far from my mind.The grip on my lust where you are concerned is teniuous at best, but tonight..." Releasing her, Snape raked a shaking hand through his hair. "Olivia, I know there are important issues you wish to share with me, but at this moment, to hell with Voldemort! Damn the rest of the world. I need you."
Stepping forward, Olivia once more pressed herself to the potions masters hard length. Snape could feel the gentle swell of her breasts against his chest and the agonizing sweetness of her pelvis grating against him almost caused his knees to buckle.
"It took you long enough, love." The sexy witch teased. "All that to say you would rather make love than talk." Laughter bubbled up from her lips as Olivia took his hand in hers. "I haven't got a problem with that. None what so ever."
Snape smiled.
Together they moved to Olivia's bedchamber skillfully shutting out the
rest of the world.
~~*~~
Later.
Much later, Olivia sat cross-legged in the middle of her rumpled bed. Sipping from her goblet of chilled wine, she studied the much relaxed wizard who lay propped up on pillows, a plate of chocolates and strawberries resting on his chest. The heat of their love-making continued to tingle along her nerve endings; just as the odor of passionate sweat lingered on the air. The memory of their coupling brought a delicious shiver up Olivia's spine and caused Snape to flash a satisfied smirk in her direction.
"What's with that look, sir?" Olivia demanded with a smile. "One would think you invented sex from that smug grin riding your face."
Snape helped himself to a plump berry, washing it down with a drink from his own cup, before answering. "From your earlier cries, I would think you were of the same opinion."
Olivia rolled her eyes.
Stretching, Severus set his plate on the floor. Rolling towards Olivia, he deftly plucked the goblet from her fingers and placed it on the floor as well.
"Miss McGonagall, I am not practiced in the ways of post-coital conversation, but isn't this the moment where you are supposed to say, 'Severus, we need to talk.'?"
Olivia bravely held his eyes as she nodded in agreement.
"Well?" Snape prompted crisply
"Severus, do you remember the first time you saw me? Not at the station, but the very first time." Olivia twisted nervous fingers into the fringe of her dressing gown as she waited for Snape's response.
Snape caught Olivia's anxious hands in one of his own. "I remember that moment very well. It was in the court room. I was being led in for the first time." Severus' face twisted in a bitter sneer. "You were all standing there looking like calves seperated from their mothers. I knew then that I was in serious trouble."
Olivia blushed as she, too, recalled the callow team the Ministry had
assembled to insure Severus Snape's imprisonment.
"Well," she stammered. "Besides that, I mean. I want to know
what your reaction was to me."
Snape closed his eyes, attempting to retreive the scene from memory. When he opened them again, he found Olivia watching him intently.
"I recall you looked frightened. And angry; yes very angry. I could feel it coming off of you as heat leaves a fire. For a brief second wondered what I had done to make you so mad." Severus barked an irritated laugh. "Here I was being led to the gallows and I was trying to figure out how to make you smile."
"I know what you mean." Olivia whispered. "I felt the same way. Even as I believed you guilty of all those horrors, I wanted to comfort you."
The two sat in silence for a moment before Olivia inquired. "Severus, what do you know about 'compellings'?"
Snape frowned slightly at the question. "I may have slightly more knowledge than the average wizard in that area, but it is not expansive." Pausing, Severus pulled at each memory he possessed concerning the charm. "As I recall, there must be some natural attraction in place for the 'compelled' subject to respond properly. I would not, for example, be as eager to bed Minerva or Poppy, for I do not find them sexually alluring. You will NOT be sharing this information, will you?" Snape demanded in his best 'professor voice'.
Despite the seriousness of the situation Olivia burst into laughter, wrapping her arms about Severus' neck before kissing him soundly on the mouth. She rested her forehead against Snape's. "So, you find me alluring?"
"I find you maddening!" He ruffled her hair and pushed her down into the pillows. "Now why this question on compelling? Do you believe I am being compelled to love you? If so, than who is doing the compelling?"
Snuggling her head into Snape's shoulder, Olivia trailed her hand over
the silky hair on his chest. "Severus, Brigit needs a champion, someone
to fight for her, or me. The champion will protect me and or Brigit
with his life." Here Olivia paused, feeling Severus' chest muscles
tense up under her fingers. "I think she has chosen you, Severus."