Usual disclaimers? Are you kidding? Get real! Would I be working at the high school if I was getting PAID to write this? Give me a break.

New and improve chapter. Not plot changes, just better grammar, punctuation and explaination.

Chapter 33-

The fluid ruby and topaz of fall hardened into the glittering diamond that was winter. Frost that grew during the night over the window panes resembled antique fairy lace and cast a spray of rainbow coloured light across the bed and the woman who lay there.

The biting chill of the chamber reddened Olivia's cheeks and finger tips but did very little to calm the rising tide of nausea that drove her from the bed and into the darkness of the bathroom. Each sunrise for the past two weeks had found Miss McGonagall bowing to the inevitable, not to mention the commode. At first, Olivia tried to persuade herself that the discomfort was the result of a bug. When the alarming sensation had repeated itself the following morning, the limp witch was convinced she had the flu. After all, Poppy had diagnosed a few early cases just after the start of the Quidditch season. Surely, the flu could account for the rocking in her stomach and the taint of metal on her tongue every sunrise.

Couldn't it?

It could also explain away the heavy lassitude that dragged on her limbs and pulled her normally active mind in to a foggy abyss. Olivia had given up on her daily runs through Hogwarts, now devoting that time to brief but dearly needed cat naps. After lunch each day she would retreat to her chambers to first toss her meal into the Hogwarts sewers, and second, fall oblivious onto the bed.

Yet try as she might, Miss McGonagall could not recall a flu bug anywhere upon the globe so selective in its symptoms as to only manifest itself first thing in the morning and then again directly after lunch. She was absurdly grateful to be allowed to keep her evening meal, else she might have swiftly faded away. Olivia shied away from the thought of visiting the hospital wing, knowing that her behaviour was childish, yet wishing to put off actually hearing the words in Poppy's gentle voice.

Rolling her moist forehead back and forth along the cool, slick porcelain rim of her toilet bowl, Olivia wiped at her mouth and nose with the cloth she had taken to laying out for just that purpose prior to retiring at night. Funny, how easily the human psyche adapts to and provides accommodations for distressing little episodes that pop up from time to time, Olivia chuckled silently. Easing her trembling frame to the floor, Olivia curled one hand by her ear and settled her cheek into the valley created by her upper and lower arm. The violent retching always left her sweating and weak, she was grateful for the chill air moving over her damp skin, and this morning was no different, save it was a Saturday and she would not have to worry about being late for breakfast or class.

Reaching out in the darkness, Olivia's questing fingers encountered the fluffy softness of a bath towel. Pulling the material from the rod, Olivia draped it over her shoulders. With a sigh, the exhausted witch settled down into the surprising comfort of the tiles.

Sunlight on her face and the sounds of bird song brought Olivia from her sleep. Before her eyes were fully open, alarm pulsed through her entire being. Instantly alert, Olivia sprang into a crouch, her eyes taking in and assessing the images around her.

She had awakened atop a low hillock covered in high, waving grasses; the tender, green blades creating their own hissing, sliding melody as they danced and swayed in the breeze. Here and there among the misty billows of moss, sage and lime, flower heads bobbed like corks of blue and lavender upon a rolling sea.

Fighting down her fear, Olivia considered her situation. Where ever she had been transported was far from Great Britain. The fresh green of the hill and the gentle temperature of the breeze told her as much. From where she crouched, Olivia's view was that of shifting grass and flowers, so cautiously, she raised her head higher.

In the near distance, a stand of ancient trees, bearded and knotty, stood parallel to a sparkling brook that giggled and chuckled its nimble way from here to there. The birds that had awakened the sleeping witch could be seen darting and flicking among their rustling leaves.

A glance over her shoulder caused Olivia to fling herself face first into the fragrant, sun warmed earth below the swaying sea of green. In that brief moment, Olivia had spotted a rambling abby of timbered stone. Milling about the structure, occupied in various homily tasks, were several women.

All manner of scenarios vied for Olivia's attention as the smell of damp earth filled her nostrils. Could this be a scheme of Voldemort's making, a place to secret away her until such time as she was needed? Perhaps this was Lucius Malfoy's idea of a romantic get away.

Realizing that answers would not be forth coming from the myriad, multi-legged creatures creeping beneath her nose, Olivia tentatively eased herself once more to her knees and peered over the waving grass.

The women at the abby continued in their chores, their voices and laughter drifting up to Olivia's ears. Gathering her courage, she rose to her feet, noticing for the first time that she was clad in her night shift. Peeling the damp and stained hem from about her calves, Olivia slogged towards the dwelling and its busy occupants.

A heavy set young woman carefully put her spindle a-whirl, deftly pulling fibers from a tangle of greyish fluff impaled upon a narrow rod. Her fingers, calloused but sure, worked the appearing thread until it flew from her grasp, fine and smooth as wire. A movement from the hill captured her attention and she raised her strong, handsome face. Shielding her eyes from the glare, she marked the progress of the approaching figure for a moment before throwing both hands to the air and shrieking in unrestrained joy.

Olivia froze when the woman's scream pierced her ears, unsure. The call, however, was not one of anger or fear, but of unabashed happiness. Stranger still, was that the other women had dropped their tasks or poured from the building to take up the cry.

Tears streaming down their laughing cheeks, the women hurried towards the startled witch, their hands held out in welcome.

"Olivia!"

"!Olivia, mi hija preciosa!"

"Voila, Olivia! Voila!"

"Elle est si belle et charmante!"

Their greetings came in many languages, some Olivia had never heard before, but the meanings were clear. Their salutations and their hands descended upon Olivia and she was swept up in their exuberance. Her hair and cheeks were kissed and stroked; her fingers pressed lovingly. Surrounded by strangers, oddly, Olivia felt cherished and allowed herself to be escorted by her chattering hostesses closer to the stone abby.

"Thy sisters have bid thee welcome. Pray, allow me to to greet thee with equal joy and affection."

The ladies before Olivia parted, permitting another to glide into their midst. Olivia felt her heart leap in her chest even as her knees folded beneath her and bowing her head, Olivia knelt before her goddess.

Hands, both loving and strong lay on Olivia's bent head as Brigit pronounced her blessing. A trembling racked Olivia's frame, a mixture of fear and insurmountable exaltation that could not be expressed with voice or pen.

"Arise, daughter! Arise and let me look upon thee!"

Eager hands assisted Olivai to her feet as cool finger tips under her chin tilted her head up. Reluctant green eyes lifted to laughing orbs of midnight blue.

"Behold my vessel. Prepared by my hand she has been sent into the world to do my will." Brigit cried in a loud voice. "Is she not fair?" The goddess smiled down into Olivia's startled face.

The air around the two became filled with whispered murmurs of praise from the other women.

"Thy time here will be brief, thus we must needs make the best of what is allowed." Addressing the gathering of women, Brigit shooed them back to their task with a laugh like birdsong. "Anon, my daughters. Anon. Olivia's hour has not yet reached its ripening. Jealously will I guard this moment with her. Return to thy tasks." Reaching for Olivia's hand Brigit set off, pulling the curious witch in her wake.

The two walked in silence as Brigit led Olivia back up the hillock and to the brook that was beyond. Olivia used the quiet to study the unusual creature keeping her company. The goddess was garbed in, what resembled a nun's habit. There, the comparisons ended. Where the traditional habits of Olivia's experience were black, Brigit's was of canary yellow, heavily embroidered in flowers of every variety and hue. The wimple that framed her face was of startling silver-white, while the veil was created of the same material as the habit. She glowed like the sun. Olivia observed that the goddess' feet were bare and stained by the grass through which they waded.

Upon reaching the water, Brigit clasped both of Olivia's hands in hers and pulling the witch nearer, pressed a a gentle kiss on to her brow. "I am well pleased with thee, my vessel. Thou art the culmination of all our longings and we are made joyful by thy coming."

Blushing under the loving gaze, Olivia stammered, "Am I dreaming, milady?"

Brigit shrugged. "What is a dream, Olivia? Accept only that thou art here in this time and space with me. Attend to me and fret not over the hows and whys of thy coming. Art thou willing to heed my instruction?"

Confused yet trusting, Olivia could only nod.

Brigit smiled and released Olivia's hands. The hem of her garment murmured sweetly as the goddess moved nearer to the tumbling water. An expression of indescribable heartache and yearning fell over the lovely features as a cloud would hide the sun. Olivia felt her own heart clench in shared suffering.

"Olivia, my dearest?" Brigit spoke.

"Yes, milady?"

"I have a task for thee."

"Of course, milady." Olivia replied, moving quickly to stand by the taller woman.

Brigit pointed to a spot across the brook. "See'est thou the largest oak? Entwined within its roots, a massive stone doth lay. Take'est thou this parcel and place it upon yonder stone. Go quickly and tarry not." A handkerchief of blue silk was pressed into Olivia's hand. Within the thin material, Olivia's fingers felt an object, small and round. Lifting the trailing edges of her gown, Olivia gingerly stepped into the rill, the icy sting causing her to gasp sharply. Behind her, the witch could hear Brigit's delighted giggle. Without delay, Olivia did as she was asked and returned to her lady's side.

"That was COLD!" Olivia shrieked, rubbing her bright pink feet.

"Aye, 'tis brisk!" Brigit laughingly agreed. "Come, bide with me awhile. You have performed a task beyond my ability. Now, ask of me what thou wilt; I will give thee what answers I may." So saying, the goddess moved to where a swing constructed of thickly woven vines hung suspended from a thick branch. Taking a seat, she beckoned for Olivia to join her.

"Milady," Olivia began as she tucked her stinging toes under her for warmth. "Why did you ask me to take the parcel for you? Couldn't you just as easily have delivered it yourself?"

Brigit sighed. "Olivia, bound am I to this side by covenants of my own making. Until the task that is yet before thee has been completed, I may venture no farther than the water's brim." Eyes the colour of the winter sky clouded with pain gazed in longing at the far shore. " In my heart I have traversed yon stream a million times and danced upon the hills with my lover. I would tell thee this tale, yet thy time here is fleeting. Ask that I may give thee what guidance 'tis mine to bestow."

Olivia rifled through the multitude of questions pushing their way to the fore, then blurted suddenly, "Why me?"

Instead of laughing, Brigit nodded in solemn understanding. "By my reckoning, 'tis but a day or an aeon, both being equal in my eyes, that the Father Creator did cast His eyes upon the unwinding of the ages and there did He detect a weakness in the span. In His perfect construction did the Master find a flaw, which left unaltered, would sunder the whole bringing about the suffering and enslavement of a small portion of His creation. Small in number they are, yet dear to the Father. Then did He seek'est a way to strengthen the cord. One more fiber He would lay, just so, into the spinning of the skein. Cleverly would that strand be placed, thus at the correct moment time's nimble fingers would take it up and there spin it hidden into the threads."

Brigit paused in her telling, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "'Twas here I made mine sacrifice. The Creator did ask of His Greater Children to give one of their own into His service. I alone agreed to the request." Brigit watched Olivia carefully. "I did give Him thee."

Olivia's eyes widened in anxious fear, but Brigit caressed her cheek soothingly. "Hush, dear one. Fear not that I have forsaken thee. Thou art my Vessel, my precious one. Through thee will the thread once more be made strong. I chose well. Thou wilt not break before the appointed time."

Olivia once more found her tongue. "What did the Father see as the weakness? What could cause such a thing to happen?"

"The rising of one who would destroy all that thou hold'est dear. The Serpent, Voldemort rising anew with holy blood flowing in his veins. Were he allowed to succeed, The Child of Magic would fall before him. The Child is unprepared to go against the Serpent. He is yet young and untutored in his skills. This is the weakness the Father did spy, the fray in the weave of His creation."

"Where do I come into all of this?" Olivia inquired, shaken. " 'Cause I am not real sure that you have picked the right person for the job." Realizing her error, she hastily added, "No offence meant."

Brigit laughed, the sound lifting Olivia's heart. "No offence taken, dear one. Yet thou art hasty in thy assumption of thy weakness. Thou art strong. Did I not forge thee? Thou wert created for thy task in the mist of time. Long has the world awaited thy coming and a way was prepared for thee. Thou did not come unheralded."

"The Prophesies!" Olivia gasped.

"Aye." Brigit nodded, smiling brightly. "'Twas my idea, thou know'est." And to Olivia's amazement, the goddess winked. "Sly is the Serpent, slyer still must be his enemy. Thus did I impart my will upon Surinam, that he should proclaim thy coming."

"I thought he was insane!" Olivia whispered.

Brigit leaned near. "Oh, he was!" The goddess giggled, covering her mouth with a fluttering hand. "Yet who would harken to the words of one possessed of their faculties? Mind thee, I did have to fulfil several of the more outlandish ramblings to grant credence to his utterings. Earthquakes and eclipses happen not overnight, I wilt have thee know." Brigit pushed hard against the ground with her toes setting the swing into motion.

Olivia whooped at the sudden movement, then allowed the gentle rocking to soothe her as she reclined further into the vines. "So, where exactly do I come into all of this?"

"Thou art the new fiber, carefully woven into the pattern. Thus, when Voldemort moved to fulfil his vile ambitions, 'twould be but one female for whom he would seek. Thee." The goddess held firmly to Olivia's eyes. "Do'est thou know'est why?"

Numbly, Olivia shook her head. "No. Why?"

"Because I did tell him so!" Brigit giggled again. "He did'est read the words of a fool and by believing such, is he, himself the greater fool. He had to believe thee and thee alone would bring about his immortality. Thus, in the fullness of time will we appear before the Serpent and strip him of his strength. And in the Serpent's decline will the Child of Magic grow to manhood and be ready to take up the sword."

"I will have to face Voldemort again?" Olivia asked, stricken.

"Be assured my dearest, thou art never alone. I would not leave my most precious child unguarded amongst demons. Together shall we thwart the plans of the vile snake, leaving him to writhe in anguish, choking on his impotence!"

For a long moment did the two women sit in silence, the motion of the swing creating a satisfying, groaning noise from the branch above as the vines slid along the gnarled wood. Releasing a sigh, Brigit reached under her chin and tugged on the ribbons that held her wimple in place. The goddess pulled the shimmering fabric from her head, then laughed merrily at the amazed look that appeared upon Olivia's face.

"Did'est thou believest me shorn under this veil, Olivia?" The goddess teased, running her white fingers through a mass of shimmering black hair that tumbled to her lap, where it collected in an ebony pool.

"Well, I have to admit....yea, I did." Olivia reached out her hands and gathered the heavy mass, feeling the silkiness slide through her fingers. "It is so lovely, milady. You, your entire person... You are so beautiful." Embarrassed, the witch ducked her face.

"Olivia, 'tis the love thou bear'est me that make'est me lovely in thine eyes. Love blinds the beholder. Is that not so with thine own beloved and champion?" The gleam in Brigit's eye was now nastily wicked.

"Severus?" Olivia gasped, then, sitting straighter, inquired, "If you have been with me, protecting me all this time, what part does Severus have in my life? Did you choose him for me?"

Brigit reared back in feigned shock. "Cast not the blame for the choice upon my head! Thou did'est that on thy own. Recall the first time thou beheld thy beloved?"

"Yes," Olivia replied. "In the courtroom.""

"When thy heart did break with sweet compassion, and tears of absolution fell from thine eyes, I placed my hand upon Severus claiming him for thy service. Through his raging, I did cause Severus to meet thine eyes. At that moment thou wer't sealed one to the other. I did'est bind Severus to thee however the choice was always thine to make. Never would I force a man upon thee."

Brigit watched as Olivia digested the information, then inquired in a wheedling tone, "So, art thou not pleased with thy choice? Is he not lovely in thine eyes? Is not his form enticing to thee and does not his voice cause rivers of desire to flood thy most intimate parts?"

"Milady!" Olivia gasped. "You are a saint, for Pete's sake!"

"I am a woman first! Blame the habit on Rome." Brigit retorted smartly, shaking the heavy fabric of her raiment before adding, "Pray, who is Pete?"

"Never mind," Olivia laughed. "And yes, I find Severus incredibly alluring. And irritating. And sarcastic. Moody. Bossy. Believe me, there are countless adjectives I can use to describe Severus. He has many facets to his personality, not all of them are shiny."

"And yet, thou dost love this man." The goddess stated patiently, one slender brow arched in question.

Returning the steady gaze, Olivia responded firmly, "Yes, I do. He irks me, but I love him."

" 'Tis good." Brigit whispered, nodding her black head sagely. "And does thy beloved and champion return thy affection?"

Olivia shrugged, a tiny smile on her lips. "In his own manner, yes."

"So, thou hast given this man thine heart and taken him into your body. In thy love and trust, thou hast allowed the beloved to place his mark of protection upon thee."

Olivia stared quizzically at Brigit, who was now grinning in mischievous delight.

"Thou art with child!" The goddess whispered excitedly.

For a moment, Olivia was immobile, frozen by hearing the words being spoken aloud. "A baby?" She gasped in disbelief.

"Aye!" Brigit cried happily, clapping her hands.

Olivia lowered her face into her own trembling hands. "Oh god!" The shattered witch moaned. "Oh my god!"

"Aye?" Brigit responded sweetly.

With a disgusted huff, Olivia thrust her body from the swing. Wrapping her arms protectively over her chest, she began pacing the small clearing. Brigit watched with dancing eyes.

As her pulse began to slow Olivia faced the smiling deity, whispering fearfully, "Are you sure?"

At Brigit's ecstatic nod, Olivia sank to the damp ground. "A baby! Severus is going to have a cow!"

"Nay!" Brigit crowed gleefully. "He is going to have a son!" Pushing her bare toes deep into the mossy ground, she set the swing arching back forcefully as her joyous laughter filled the trees. It was several long minutes before Brigit noticed that Olivia was not sharing in her happiness. Stopping the swing's movement, the goddess frowned before asking, "Olivia dearest, art thou not made joyful by these tidings? Thy beloved and champion hast secured thy protection. No longer must thou be in fear of the Serpent and his vile scheming."

Looking up, tears streaming down her cheeks, Olivia demanded, "How can my being pregnant with Severus' child protect me from Voldemort?" A violent shiver racked her frame and panic filled her green eyes. "Voldemort will find out. He has spies everywhere! He will kill Severus!"

Rushing to Olivia's side, Brigit knelt down, wrapping loving arms about the witch's trembling shoulders. "Nay, nay! Thy beloved and champion is safe. Did I not send him a protector?"

"I don't understand. Please, please stop talking in riddles!" Olivia pleaded.

"The Hound, Olivia. I did'est send forth the Hound to lead the hunt astray. Let the Serpent believe the Hound to be thine own true love. Just as thou chose thine beloved, so did'est Severus chose the Hound to serve as his shield. As a youth did the Hound lift his hand to smite Severus. For his vile deed the Hound was praised and petted whilest Severus stood ridiculed and cursed. Thus are the tables now turned. Thy beloved's hand holds the chain and the Hound is bound into his service."

"That's why I heard your voice in the Great Hall, when Sirius kissed me." Olivia breathed.

"Aye." Brigit replied, her voice turning hard. "In spite did he accost thee there hoping to fuel the pain of thy beloved." Brushing strands of hair from Olivia's wet cheeks, Brigit crooned, "Peace love, those that would harm Severus will focus upon the cavorting dog, ignoring the hand that holds the leash. The labours of my children will not be rewarded with death."

"But a baby..." Olivia stammered, still reeling.

"Attend to my words. Do'st thou not recall my admonition to the Serpent while in his lair? 'A child she will bear, but whose?' Only the first fruit of thy womb shall bring about my release. Voldemort," she spat his name upon the ground. "He would corrupt holy blood with vile spells, placing his own spirit within the babe at conception. Forever tying me to him."

"I had a dream..." Olivia began.

"Aye, 'twas a warning of what could come. Voldemort hath devised a perversion of the Beltaine ritual. While he dost lay within thee, when his seed is spilt so will his blood. At the moment of death will his spirit quicken the child and hasten its birth." Rising, Brigit assisted Olivia to her feet. "Yet weep not, for thy beloved and champion hast freed thee from the threat of Voldemort." Resting her arm across Olivia's shoulder, the black haired goddess led her once more to their perch of vines.

"Milady?"

"Aye?"

"What did you mean when you said only my first born would bring about your release?"

Turning, Brigit resumed her seat upon the swing. She busied herself smoothing the folds of her habit, that even now were unstained by her time kneeling upon the damp moss. Olivia waited impatiently.

Finally, the goddess spoke. Now her tone was low and grave. "Olivia, doest thou know'est where I abide?"

Uncertain, Olivia indicated the place around them. "Here?"

"Nay, I abide'est within thee." Brigit's blue eyes held firmly to Olivia's gaze, refusing to let go. "Dost thou understand what I say?"

Clearing a painful lump building in her throat, Olivia responded. "You live in me?"

"Aye." Brigit answered, nodding slowly. "Thy soul and mine are one."

Olivia released a long, "Okaaaaaay."

"Voldemort would use his black spell to forever bind me too him; my soul imprisoned ever after in his new, immortal body. Thus would he draw upon my strength to work his foulness. My strength would be his strength and he would lay waste to the world."

Brigit paused, breathing deeply. "Now the threat of Voldemort has been negated by the seed of the beloved and the champion. The birth of this child will sunder me from thee, my Vessel." The lovely features were firm and resolved. "Long have I been imprisoned within the flesh of others, passing down through the vaults of time to the perfect hour of thy coming. I have kept my covenant with the Father. I have been faithful through ages of suffering and loneliness. Now, I will take the reward that was promised me."

Olivia was backing away, stumbling over roots, shaking her head in mute denial.

'"When thy child is born, I will cross over yon stream to be joined reunited with my own beloved, my Silvanus, the god of the forest and the hunt. Even now, my betrothal ring doth lay upon yonder stone for him to find. Thou carried it there for me."

"I am going to die." Olivia rasped. "Malfoy was right!

"Olivia!" Brigit sighed. "Thy death is needful for me to carry on with my existence. That was the sacrifice I made, the bargain I did strike with the Father. If thou would but calm, hear me...."

"What about my sacrifice?" Olivia cried. "You can't just use me and throw me a..." Her words choked off in a broken sob.

Brigit rose to her feet, her face terrible in her anger. "Speak not to ME in that manner! I am thy goddess. I created thee from nothing. I can do with thee as I WILL! Think not to tell me what I may and may not do with my own creation."

Olivia's heart shivered in fear at Brigit's wrath, yet some part of her held firm and pointing at the goddess, spoke coldly. "YOU are no better than Voldemort. At least he told me the truth from the start."

Striding forward until she towered over the trembling witch, Brigit proclaimed, "Comparest me to the demon? I have guarded thy coming since the dawn of time. 'Twas I who prepared and smoothed the way for thy arrival. All I have ever done, I have done for THEE! I cared for thee as tenderly as any mother."

" You have a pretty crappy interpretation of caring ." Olivia responded coldly. "I didn't want you as my mother! I lost my parents because of you and your damn prophesies! You made my own parents too frightened to keep me. Because of you I spent my childhood alone! Now, because of you, I am going to die bearing Severus' son. Because of you, the man I love will raise our child alone. You will understand if I am less than grateful."

"Bah! What is thy suffering compared to my own? What of my beloved? Silvanus has waited centuries unnumbered for this time."

"You should have told me sooner. I should have been given a choice."

"Who are thee to dictate to me?" Brigit demanded in a coldly regal tone. "Thou hast no choice in this instance. Thou wert created for but one purpose. To me MY vessel. Thou wert formed and shaped by my hand to do my will alone. Thou belong'est to me."

"Not anymore." Olivia stated, turning and heading swiftly up the hill.

"Olivia! Come here! Thou shalt not walk away from me in that manner! Augh!" With a disgusted snort Brigit stormed after the witch.

Hearing the sound of pursuit, Olivia whirled, pointing her finger at the approaching goddess. "I will serve you no longer. I will no longer love you, or revere you. I will never again speak your name or allow a thought of you to pollute my mind. You and I are finished!"

"Finished?!" Brigit shrieked. "Thou know'est nothing of finished! Thou wilt never be finished with me! Where wilt thou run to hide? Think'est thou can merely speak the words and thou would'est be shed of me? Nay! Thou can deny me, turn thy back on me, but thou wilt still do my will."

Olivia, her face streaked with tears and determination, shook her head in denial. "No."

"Think'est to contend with me, thou stiff-necked woman? I shall be as the whirlwind in thy branches, shaking thee to the very foundations and pulling thee up by thy roots. I shall plant thee in an orchard of my making and thou WILL bear thine fruit at my command." Though the words were calmly spoken, there was no mistaking the power behind each syllable.

Olivia stood unmoved. "I want to go back to Hogwarts now."

Lightening exploded at her feet, yet surprisingly, Olivia remained standing. She glanced down at the gash smouldering near her toes. In the distance, Olivia could hear alarmed cries coming from the direction of the abby.

"You missed." She advised Brigit calmly.

The goddess huffed in vexation. "Olivia, thou hast angered me with thy obstinance, yet I would never do thee harm."

"You're planning to kill me!" Olivia declared forcefully.

"It is needful." The goddess reached out with imploring hands. "Olivia, thou art affrighted. Thy fear does cause thee to lash out. Pray, come to me and I will pacify thy heart. Allow me to take up thy burden, dearest. Lay thy head upon my breast and let me give thee council. Come, take my hand." Love shone from Brigit's countenance, glowed about her like the sun.

"No."

"Thou would'est go, leave here with thy heart trembling in fear, thy hands shaking in anger? Why not take of my comfort..."

"No."

Brigit surprised Olivia by growling in frustration. "I did forge thee too well, methinks." She stared hard at Olivia, who stood resolute, her hands hanging by her sides.

"Then begone, foolish woman! Return to thy dark and lonely chamber to weep and pout like the child thou art! But think not to flee. Thou cannot hide from me! I will find thee and if needs be, drag thee in chains to Voldemort's pit at the appointed time. Remember this however, I will not turn my back on thee. Not a step will I take away from thee."

Darkness wrapped its self around Olivia and she felt herself drifting. Under her hip was the cold hard tiles of her bathroom floor, her arm numb where her head had lay. As full wakefulness came to her, Olivia heard Brigit's whispered farewell, "Thou hast irked me, but I love thee still."

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Olivia shut the door to the infirmary softly. Drawing a steadying breath she set off at a brisk pace, the vials of prenatal potions clinking softly in the pocket of her robes. Task number one was complete.

Now, to find Minerva and begin task two.

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His breath trailed behind him like steam from the Hogwarts Express. The corridors of the wizarding school were naturally chilly even through the more benign months of the year, but now in winter's iron grip, they possessed a cold that speared its way through the thickest wool. Frost rimmed the very stones of the corridor's floor, making walking, or striding fiercely, hazardous. Yet stride fiercely he did, the heels of his boots ringing like a smith's hammer as he blasted his way through icy air. The meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore had gone well and Severus was eager for the warmth of his sitting room fire and a bracing mug of coffee.

Passing by one of the many tall windows lining his path, Snape was arrested in his flight as movement upon the snow covered lawn captured his attention.

It was Olivia. She was speaking urgently to her mother, Minerva. It was the elder witch's anxious pacing that had originally caught Snape's eye, but now that orb feasted upon Olivia.

It had been an unsettling two weeks since the Quidditch Ball and the confrontation with Lucius Malfoy. The Potions Master had seen little of Miss McGonagall during the past fortnight and she was frequently in the company of Sirius Black. It seemed the episode in the gardens had driven home the depths of Black's responsibility and now, Sirius rarely left her side.

Olivia had altered her behaviors as well. She no longer entertained and enthralled the male members of the student body with her daily runs along the halls of Hogwarts and she had taken to avoiding the staff room during her free periods, choosing rather, to close herself in her chambers between classes. During meals in the Great Hall Olivia was listless, absently pushing her food about on the plate and freqently leaving early, most of her meal untouched.

It was her altered physical appearence that Snape found most disquieting. The morning following the ball Olivia had entered through the teacher's door in the rear of the chamber, that being a highly unusual event in and of itself. It was her normal practice to enter the Great Hall through the massive double doors, pausing to chat with students as she made her way to the head table.

The dark wizard had captured the light floral scent of Olivia's body wash as she moved swiftly past his chair to take her seat to the left of the headmaster, his mind registering the alteration in her usual path. It was the startled silence of the entire student body as well as that of his fellow teachers, that alerted Snape to a more ominous event.

Lifting his black eyes, Snape had quickly scanned the student body for the cause of the frozen stillness, but found all their gazes fixed upon the head table. Turning his head, Snape followed the amazed stares to their target. If not for his years of work perfecting the look of phlegmatic ennui, the Potions Master knew his jaw would have hit the tabletop, so great was his shock.

Her hair! Severus bellowed silently. What has she done? Rediculiously stupid question, Snape old man, he blasted himself, it is obvious she has cut it all off!!! Gone was the lovely brown river of silk that had spilled to her waist. In its place was a cap of chocolate feathers falling in layers from her crown to just below the tops of her pale ears. The bangs had been left long and willowly, swaying just over her brows and melding into more layers that hugged her temples and cheeks. All in all, a rather appealing cut, but still....What could have moved her to such a decision?

Snape quickly returned his attention to his plate as Minerva launched into a hotly whispered tirade with her daughter. They sound like two adders in a cauldron, Snape noted to himself. And like adders, women fighting in whispers are best kept at a distance, or better still, avoided altogether.

So now, again, from a distance the shadowy wizard observed as the two women went at each other once more. Only this discussion did not appear to have the makings of a massive female row. Snape's eyes narrowed as he peered intently at Olivia. Her face was etched in lines of sorrow and pleading. Her hands were held out in supplication to the figure stalking with agitated vigor before her. What could have brought about such a scene between mother and daughter, Snape wondered. As he looked on, Olivia ceased her speaking and stood with her shorn head hanging low to her chest, an air of defeat and resignation cloaking her frame. Snape's heart constricted painfully in his chest. He pressed a long hand to the cold glass seperating him from Olivia's suffering and cursed the black moment he cast her away. Were Snape capable of reversing time he declared internally, he would revisit that evening when he had rejected her so hatefully.

Hind sight is a lovely attribute, indeed.

Minerva had ceased her restless pacing and was questioning her daughter intently, though Olivia responded only with negating shakes of her bowed head. Suddenly, to Snape's dismay, Minerva threw her arms around Olivia and broke down in agonized weeping. Olivia brought her arms up to grasp tightly at Minerva's quaking shoulders. Snape watched as the two women swayed and rocked one another, their keening unheard yet understood by their silent observer.

"Taking up voyeurism, Snape?" Black's snide voice cut into Snape's tormented wondering. Whirling, the Potions Master glared at the smirking animagus.

"Sod off, Black!" Snape growled before resuming his interrupted walk to the dungeons.

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"May I speak with you for a bit?" Olivia stood just inside the potions class door.

Snape's black head jerked up from the article he had been staring at for the past half hour. The wizard had been replaying the scene he had inadvertently witnessed the day before, the dry words of the potions journal fading out to be replaced by the remembered image of Minerva and Olivia holding tightly to one another, lost in their grieving.

Tossing the useless journal aside, Snape rose gracefully, bowing slightly at the waist. "I am at your disposal." He stated dryly. Mentally kicking himself for his lack of warmth, Snape quickly moved around his desk, beckoning Olivia forward with one hand. "Would the classroom suffice, or would you perfer the privacy of my office?"

"The office, I think." Olivia replied as she moved between the student desks towards the front of the chamber. Snape opened the heavy wooden panel and stood politely to one side, allowing Olivia to proceed him into the office. As she passed by, he could detect the delicate fragrance of her hair and the warm scent of her skin. By force of will, Snape kept his hands by his sides, refusing to reach out and touch her, refusing to see the look of horrified anger that he knew would fill her eyes if he took such liberties.

Olivia moved about the chamber with familiar ease. After all, she had spent many evenings in this office as Snape's uninvited guest. Her eyes quickly scanned the orderly desk top and the shelves lining the walls before settling on the wizard who had pulled up a chair and invited her to sit.

The Potions Master took a seat beside Olivia rather than retreating to his usual position of power behind the desk. He observed her for several moments as she let her gaze move over the room. Olivia was still too pale for his comfort and smudges of bluish-purple lay beneath her eyes. At this proximity, the impact of the missing hair was more striking. It left the slender column of her neck and throat bare to his hungry eyes and accentuated the pixie-ish contures of her face.

She was the first to break the silence. "How is Cat?" She asked politely.

"He is doing well, thank you." Severus replied, hoping he was infusing his voice with warmth. "He vanished for a short time after that..." He cut himself off abruptly.

" I am sorry to intrude on your privacy, yet..."

"No. No intrusion. My pleasure, really." Severus coughed slightly. "I interrupted. Pray, continue."

Olivia smiled slightly at Snape's discomfort, for some reason pleased with the thought that she could still unsettle the chilly dungeon dweller.

"Well, the other night when..." She, too, broke off, not really wanting to go into the particulars of THAT evening.

"Please, Miss McGonagall-- Olivia..." Snape began.

"I left a book here, you see. I came to get it back." She regarded him with those deep emerald eyes and Snape felt himself floundering.

"A book?"

"Yes, I brought it that night because there was something I needed help with and when I left..."

"You are here for a book?" He wondered why he sounded so incredibly stupid.

"Yes, a large one, bound in green leather. I guess with the mess, it would have been easy to get it mixed up with your own collection."

Snape rose stiffly from his chair, moving gracefully to the high shelves filled with books of varying sizes and bindings. As he busied his eyes with the search of the missing tome, his brain was in over drive seeking for a diversion to stall Olivia's departure. But as fate would have its giddy way about it, he located the missing book on a lower shelf. It was untitled, but he did recognize that it was not one of his own. Pulling the weighty volumn from the shelf, he turned.

"Could this be yours?" He asked, quirking one sable brow.

Olivia stood and came closer, nodding. "Yes, the very one. Thank you." She reached one hand to take the book from him, but he quickly pulled away.

"You stated you came seeking my assistance on a question concerning this book. Does the matter still interest you. I would be willing to offer my..."

"No!" Olivia blurted then quickly recovered. "No, water under the bridge and all that. No biggie."

Snape made no move to offer the book and Olivia eyed him, puzzled. "Professor Snape? My book please."

"You called me Severus at one time." He stated honestly, the words like warm honey running over his tongue.

"Well, yeah. Things change." Olivia stated with equal honesty.

"Could 'things' not change once more?"

Oooooo! Olivia thought snippily. He is using The Voice. Drat him!

Sighing unhappily, Olivia returned to her chair and brushed her fingers through the short feathers of her hair.

"Why?" Snape inquired softly.

"What?" Olivia responded quickly. "Why what?" Then frowned in irritation at her poor wording.

Gesturing with his free hand, Snape asked once more. "Your hair. Why did you cut your hair?"

Olivia laughed, but it lacked a great deal of merriment. "Oh, this! I just got tired of the mess, you know. And really, I am not a little girl any longer." She flashed him a snarky look, daring him to contradict her words.

He could only nod before saying curtly, "It suits you. You now resemble, even more, the pixie that you are."

Silence once more fell over the pair as they continued to study one another. This time it was Snape who shattered the quiet.

"You look unwell." Oh great one, Snape! THAT should really be written down somewhere, perhaps World's Worst Pick-Up Lines!

Olivia appeared unfazed, merely shrugged her shoulders. "It is to be expected, I suppose. I am pregnant."

Snape blinked.

Once more she has one-uped you, old man.

"You are pregnant. As in with child?" His voice had gone alarmingly low.

"Yep. Pregnant. With child. Preggers. In the family way. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. One on the way." She had the gall to grin impishly.

Olivia and Minerva in the snow, rocking, keening.

Crossing the floor, Snape took his usual place behind his desk, his heart threatening to choke him on its way out of his mouth. Leaning far into the leather comfort of his chair, he gave himself a moment to compose his nerves before inquiring coldly. "And what are you intending to do about this...development?" The black pools had lost all their earlier cautious warmth and had reverted to bottomless, dangerous pits.

Olivia shrugged in a resigned way. "There is only one thing to do." She told Snape, her voice flat with pain.

Only one thing to do. Only one THING to do! Damning her and all of her species, Snape shot from his chair and plowed his way to the potions pantry. Damn! Bloody damn! He raged internally as he summoned various vials and powders, setting them roughly into a cauldron of silver. Ginger root, tansy leaves, pennyroyal, angelica root, cotton root bark... Come to fetch a damn book? Not bloodly likely. Come to fetch....this! The heart that had been trying moments before to clamber from his mouth was now shrivling in his chest, aching. Oh gods, it ached.

Returning to his office, he found Olivia standing in mute shock. Placing the cauldron on the work surface with a clatter, Snape set about lighting the burner.

"Wha...? What are you brewing?" Olivia's strangled question reached Snape through his rage and pain.

"What you obviously came for, madam!" He bit back harshly.

"Oh." Olivia breathed, stepping closer. "Would you just play along with me for a minute and tell me what it is you are making?"

"An abortifacient. I am brewing you an abortifacient." He began to smoothly fall into the rythym of potions making.

"I am going to have the baby." Olivia stated in a rough whisper.

No response from the viciously mixing wizard. Carefully, she laid a hand on his black-clad arm. He froze.

"I said, I am keeping the baby. That is what I meant when I said there was only one choice. What sort of person do you think I am?" Olivia's face had paled even more, if that were possible. Backing away, she turned to the desk, retrieving the book, which she clutched to her chest. Olivia was making her way blindly to the door when Snape's voice stopped her, impaled her heart on the spear of his rage.

"Have you informed the father?" He spat the last word like a curse.

Looking back over her shoulder, Olivia blinked back tears of shame and numbing pain.

"I just did." And slowly, she exited the office. The click of the lock like the sound of a coffin slamming, the tattoo of her retreating heels, the nails being driven home.

Severus Snape stood frozen, but in a small corner of his soul, the as of yet, un-embittered part of him rejoiced, dancing and shouting, "My child! She is carrying my child!"

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Ok, everybody say, "Ahhhhhhh!"

Please don't go out and make the potion Severus was intent on brewing. I know what a mixture like that can do. I have grown herbs and used them for years, but not for this purpose. I purposfully didn't go into detail about the brewing and ingestion for a reason. I consulted the Herbal Childbearing Year by Susan Weed and Dorothy Jacob's A Witch's Guide to Gardening for the necessary herbs.

The information on Brigit's lover is from shadowdrake.com

I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I have been working hard on it. Please leave a review or a donation in the cup.

Now, before everyone gets their knickers in a twist, I left SEVERAL obvious clues to what the final outcome will be in this chapter. It is chock full of them. Look hard, think harder.

I love each and every one of you.

Ok, this is the actual version that I was originally supposed to up load. I just forgot to click 'save changes'. Blame it on a late night. My thanks to Zee for her help. She is a dear. She is presently working on a Snape fic that will have your toes curling and you tummy clinching up in desire. I get to beta so I get to read it fur-erst!