Disclaimer: Not mine.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ailie had known something had changed between Snape and Hermione, but she was unable to fathom it. When she finally had time to seek Hermione out to see if she would come with them to Diagon Alley, her friend was sitting by a window in her sitting room, staring blankly outside. She seemed as closed- off as Snape's mind currently was, and resisted all of Ailie's attempts to coerce her into the excursion gently but firmly.
'What's going on, Herm?' Ailie finally asked, sick of subtlety. Hermione looked up at her, and there seemed to be a sadness in her eyes that belonged to someone much older.
'I'm fine, Ailie. I'm just tired.' It was the first time in their friendship that Ailie felt she was being out-and-out lied to.
Ailie managed to at least wrangle an admission of needing some things in Diagon Alley from her friend, and conveniently forgot to take the list with her before she met up with Snape.
'Oh, damn,' she said, just as they were about to walk out of the castle. 'Hermione had a list of stuff she wanted me to get. Do you mind if we go fetch it?' Snape gave her a suspicious look, but acquiesced.
Once they were in Hermione's sitting room, and a startled Hermione was looking for the list Ailie had carefully hidden under one of the sofa cushions, Ailie was better able to gauge the situation between her two companions. Though pretending to have no interest, longing was practically oozing out of Snape's pores as he glanced around the rooms. Ailie hadn't missed the not-look Hermione had given him, either; the sort of I'm-not- looking-at-you avoidance that bespoke the person's absolute desire to look as much as they wanted. Whatever their mouths and brains were saying, Hermione and Snape's bodies were laughing at.
She managed to catch a particularly not-soulful (or, as Ailie read it, completely soulful) glance Snape shot at the open door to Hermione's bedroom as the latter retreated to write a new list. His eyes flickered at the enchanted ceiling visible through the doorway, betraying enough of a smattering of surprise and intrigue for Ailie to feel justified in commenting.
'You're never going to get in there, the way you're going,' she said. Snape turned deliberately to glare at her.
'To what, precisely,' he sneered, 'are you referring?'
Ailie grinned. 'Hermione's bedroom.' Snape opened his mouth for a response, but was interrupted by a flustered-looking Hermione re-entering with a new list.
'There you are,' she said, again avoiding looking directly at Snape. 'If you can't find anything on there very easily, don't worry. I can always send them an order.'
Ailie took the list with a smile, directed more at Snape than at her friend.
When they were well on the way to Hogsmeade, she decided the time was ripe to reintroduce the topic.
'You and Hermione seem to be getting along better,' she said casually, whipping the grass beside the path with a stick. The irritation that suddenly radiated from him was her only answer.
'Just a bit of advice; now would probably be the best time to make a move,' she added.
He stopped and turned on her. 'What?'
'Now. Make a move on her.' She grinned. 'You have just been locked in a room together; a rather cosy situation, wouldn't you say?'
The mental irritation she could sense in him flashed into anger so quickly that Ailie flinched. 'You,' he said, his voice cold, 'did it on purpose.' This time it was Ailie's turn to stay silent, confused as he loomed over her. 'You trapped her in there with me,' he added, glaring. 'On. Purpose.'
Slightly terrified, Ailie shook her head. 'No- no. I swear. I only meant it for you.' Snape stood back, and Ailie felt relief wash over her. The particularly cold brand of fury emanating from Snape slowly ebbed. They turned to walk once more.
After a few minutes, the passage of time had wiped away Ailie's fear, and she began again.
'I just meant that after being alone together for a while- completely accidentally, of course,' she added, with a brief nervous glance at the figure walking beside her, '-that you might have got to know each other better, you know, and maybe you could- er,' Ailie was unfamiliar with how these things were done in the wizarding world, but figured one or two things were pretty much universal. 'Ask her out for a walk one night, or go out on a picnic...' A snort from the man beside her made her nod her head in agreement. 'Okay, maybe you're not a picnic kind of guy, but you could-'
'Ailie, leave it.' The command cut through the air. Ailie considered it for a moment, then ignored it.
'Why not?' she asked. 'You like her, she likes you-' Another snort cut her off, and she decided to try a different tactic. Remembering an approach used by some of the other staff she had seen, which seemed to cut through the wizardly reticence on sensitive matters, she said, 'If you will excuse my speaking plainly-'
'What do you call what you usually do?' Snape muttered, stopping once more to glare at her. Thoroughly frustrated, Ailie faced him, hands on hips. This wasn't going as easily as she had imagined.
'Look,' she said. 'It's obvious. You like her, and she obviously likes you- no, don't glare at me like that, I know that you know it. I can see it in your head. Stop all this stupid avoiding each other and just- I don't know, grab her or something! Or at least get her to go to dinner with you. I don't know how you wizards do it, you make it so complicated- I'll never know how you end up in relationships at all, not that I've seen any-'
Snape stood and waited for her to finish her rant, his expression all patronising patience. When she stopped talking and looked at him, he fixed her in his stare.
'No.'
It took her a few seconds to catch up with him as he turned to continue their walk.
'What?' she asked, all confusion. This was definitely not going the way she had thought it would.
'Do you fail to understand? No. Two letters. I'm certain you have an equivalent word in your native language.'
'But you can't just say no. Why? That's just silly!'
Snape sighed, a familiar weariness coming from him. 'Ailie, it is not your concern. Just- leave it.'
They reached Hogsmeade, and Snape turned, grabbing her hands. Before she could utter a word, the world spun frantically around them, lurching for a few sickening minutes before the brick walls and stone facades of a shopping district appeared. As soon as the world stopped spinning around her, Ailie pulled her hands from Snape's grasp and hit him.
'What did you do that for? You could've killed us!' His dry smile irritated her further.
'It's called Apparition. We use it for convenient and quick travel.'
Ailie glared at him, aware that he was enjoying her discomfort immensely. 'You could've warned me.'
The delights of Diagon Alley, with its bright stores and interesting little nooks, were enough to occupy Ailie for the next two hours, and it wasn't until they were purchasing the items on Hermione's list that she remembered that their conversation hadn't properly finished- at least, not to her satisfaction. As most of the items on Hermione's list appeared to be of the more complicated variety, Ailie had simply handed the list to her companion, who had taken it with surprisingly little grumbling, giving Ailie further satisfaction as to the rightness of her cause. They entered a tiny potions stores shop where Snape simply handed the list over, asking for doubles of some of the items.
As they waited for the clerk to fetch the required ingredients, Ailie leant casually against the counter.
'So, what's stopping you from making a move on Hermione?' she asked, smiling at Snape's small groan.
'Ailie, we have discussed this beyond my tolerance. Leave it be.'
'No,' she said with a smile. 'I don't see why you keep on stepping around it. You know that you both want each other; you even get along quite well, when you're not fighting. It's going to happen sooner or later. Why not start the fun now?'
'Ailie...' His voice held a threat.
'No, just explain to me why. Then I'll never bring it up again.'
Snape closed his eyes briefly, obviously summoning up control. 'Ailie, one day, hopefully soon, you will learn that life is not as simple as you believe.'
'Buzzzz, wrong answer,' she grinned. She was surprised by the look he turned on her; not the usual glare or glower, but possibly the simplest look she had ever seen. It had a lot of sadness in it.
'Ailie, it is not always possible for two people to be together, despite all...' he looked away, obviously searching for the words, 'signs or apparent desires that would indicate the contrary.' Unsatisfied with the answer, Ailie raised her eyebrows encouragingly, and he looked at her. 'Circumstances don't always suit.'
'I don't understand-'
'Must I spell it out for you?' he sighed. 'Do you remember, perhaps, the night we first met? Has that slipped your memory?' His voice was harsh, though Ailie sensed it was not directed at herself. She shivered. The night he mentioned could hardly be forgotten. 'One night, on a night like that one, very soon, my life will be forfeit. I will have very little power over what is done to me, and before I die, I have no doubt that everything that I have concealed and anything that was ever important to me will be discovered and destroyed. Do not wish that your friend will be one of those discoveries.' He turned away, back stiff as he stared at a shelf of rare ingredients.
Ailie was silent for a moment, contemplating what he had said. 'But no-one said you had to marry her, I mean you could just-'
'Flirtation or life-long affair, it makes little difference,' he said, his voice expressionless. 'Hermione Granger is already in enough danger. Any further information on her will only make it easier for anyone who wishes her harm.' Ailie glanced sideways, and took in the stiff set of his lips and his shuttered eyes. There seemed little chance he would continue the conversation. All he had said was valid, Ailie had to admit, but, somehow, she felt that there was more going on there, under the surface.
She would simply have to find it out.
***
Life at Hogwarts seemed to settle back into its routine, and the occasional addition of a nineteen-year-old student in various classes quickly ceased to make a stir. For Ailie's part, she worked at her studies with determination; if she did it to forget that summer was rapidly approaching with no sign from her coven, no one could blame her.
Hermione and Snape also settled into a routine. Their work together progressed relatively comfortably, and if they seemed to work as though there was some sort of force-field around the other, no one mentioned it.
The potion for the upcoming ball was perfected and tested, and set aside to wait for student ingestion. The potion to dissolve the link between Ailie and Snape was not so easy, and the two made frustratingly little progress. The main problem was that the stronger solutions were too dangerous to be tested, as they could possibly cause all mental faculties to dissolve, not just the particular psychic faculty that allowed Ailie and Snape to share thoughts. The weaker solutions, as might be expected, were too weak to have any affect. It was a problem that seemed insurmountable, and all the more difficult as Ailie and Snape seemed to be getting along quite companionably, removing the potentially inspiring quality of necessity.
Two weeks before the ball, and therefore nearing the end of the school year, something happened to divert the course of their experimentations.
Hermione and Ailie had been enjoying a night alone together, a relatively rare occurence of late, due to Ailie's studies and Hermione's various and numerous commitments. They had enjoyed a leisurely dinner in Ailie's rooms, sitting on a rug and enjoying the slight breeze coming in from the open windows. Ailie had been experimenting with the house elves, and had managed to negotiate a particularly sumptuous Italian meal for them, created from recipe books Ginny had been kind enough to send for her. The remains of the meal left on the rug to be cleaned up later, the two of them were sprawled out on the couch, which Ailie had turned around to face the windows.
'I don't think I ever want to eat again,' Hermione said, her hands folded over her stomach.
'You can't talk- you made me eat that last bit of pizza,' Ailie replied.
'The house-elves would have been disappointed if you'd left it,' Hermione said with a smile. 'I don't think they've ever made pizza before.'
'I'll have to send them a thank-you sock.' Hermione smiled at her friend, sleepy in the after-effects of a good meal.
Suddenly, Ailie crumpled up, bending over and clutching at her sides. Hermione sat up, startled. Almost in slow-motion, her friend slumped off the couch, collapsing on the floor. Instinct took over as Hermione knelt beside her, feeling her forehead and trying to get her to sit up.
'Ailie, was it something in the food?' she asked. 'What's wrong?' Her only answer was a groan. She tried to put her arms around the young Wiccan, trying to lift her back up onto the couch, but the girl kept cringing back from her, pushing her hands away in distress. Ailie cringed back against the couch, curling herself up as tightly as she possibly could, her muscles tensed. She stayed silent and still for a few moments, then let out a piercing scream, slumping to the floor once more. Hermione could only look on as the other girl rigidly pulled herself back up, shaking, but obviously more in control. Her wild eyes darted around the room.
'Ailie, please, tell me what's wrong!' Hermione begged, kneeling beside her. Wild eyes fastened on hers.
'Snape. The Andrews house. Fire. It's- it's- no, no, no!' Ailie curled up again, tears silently spilling from her eyes. 'They- they-' Sobs, primal and painful, wracked her body so hard that Hermione was afraid she would choke. A retching sound came from her chest, and Hermione was just able to reach over and turn Ailie's head to prevent her from throwing up on herself. She had to turn away from the grotesque sight as her friend knelt, supporting herself with her hands, and retched on to the floor.
Quickly, wanting to ease the pain in any way possible, Hermione conjured a bowl and managed to clean up the mess in a very short time. Living with Lavender and Parvarti through their discovery of alcohol had, thankfully, inured her to the smell and sight of bile. Getting rid of the refuse, she put another bowl beside Ailie's shivering body before getting a damp cloth and wiping the unresponsive girl's face. Ailie flinched away from something Hermione could not see, pushing herself even further back against the couch as though she was trying to disappear under it. She moaned again, and began rocking, fastening her eyes shut. Hermione could see her teeth grinding together. Ailie's hands gripped her arms so tightly that her nails were cutting into her skin. Instinctively, Hermione reached for her, tried to stop her hurting herself, but couldn't pry her hands away. When she tried to smooth the hair away from her face, the girl grabbed her hand at the wrist and looked furiously at her.
'LEAVE ME,' she commanded. The fire in her eyes was what made Hermione go.
Hermione smoothed away tears as she ran down the hall. She knew that she should probably go to Dumbledore, but there was no time. Besides, what could he do? Hermione knew that he must have seen this mood many times before, and knew how he would have dealt with it. The best way was to simply leave it alone, until it passed; she knew that was what Dumbledore usually did with Snape. But this time it was Ailie.
Caution had no place as she ran down the steps to the dungeon. The door to Snape's office was closed and there was no answer to her knock, but she entered anyway, her haste directing her through the door set off to the side and into Snape's dark sitting room.
The man himself looked up at her abrupt entrance, startlement quickly giving way to anger.
Before he could open his mouth Hermione said, 'Tell me how I can help.'
His face was puzzled for a moment before he began to pace again. It took him a few moments to say, 'Go away, Miss Granger,' and the lack of force in his command worried Hermione more than anything.
'Please, Severus, I know something's wrong. Ailie's so- she's-' The tears in her throat prevented Hermione from speaking for a moment, but she took a deep breath. 'She said something about the Andrews house. Please tell me.'
'Leave it alone, Miss Granger, you don't want to know.' His voice was of a man broken.
'Ailie's up there crying- I need to know how to help her!' The comment seemed to give him pause for thought, and he looked up at her with haunted black eyes.
'There was a- meeting,' he said, his jaw set. 'The home of the Andrews family was its setting. Is that enough information?'
'Oh, my God,' Hermione said, slumping into one of the chairs by the fire. She stared dumbly for a few moments, remembering the outcome of previous attacks. She knew the name Andrews; Arthur Weasley had talked about his work in the ministry several times. 'Is he- are they all right?' There was always the possibility that they hadn't been home.
'He had three small daughters; do you need me to draw you a picture?' he snarled, turning on her. Swiftly, his fist swept past and hit the wall beside her. Hermione winced at the cracking sound. Snape hissed, but continued his furious pacing, ignoring her as she hurried forward and tried to grab his hand. He ripped it from her grasp, his pacing growing even more frantic. 'His wife was taken, still alive. I suppose they're still having their fun with her; I left before...' With a set jaw, he looked down at his broken hand. Hermione was sickened by the calm on his face as he reached down and squeezed it; another crack sounded. 'They left him alive, of course. It wouldn't be a warning otherwise.'
Hermione felt ill, but knew that she was by far the better off of the two at the moment. The potions master was plainly in shock, and if she did nothing, might hurt himself further.
She stood. 'Sit down,' she commanded.
He glared at her. 'These are not your rooms, Miss Granger. Fuck off.'
'*Sit down,*' she again commanded, placing her hands on his shoulders and trying to push. His good hand whipped up and grasped her arm painfully, but she saw something change in his eyes and the grip loosened. All of the tenseness seemed to drain from him, and he slumped into a chair. Hermione knelt by it, looking at him anxiously as she placed the injured hand on the arm of the chair. He stared into the distance, his face without expression as she used her wand to locate and mend the bones he had broken. It took some time; the fragile bones of his hand hadn't stood up too well against solid stone. Hermione was as careful as she could, but still wasn't certain that the use of his hand wouldn't suffer because of it.
'You'll have to go and see Poppy tomorrow,' she said, her quiet voice breaking the stillness of the room. 'There's still some bruising. You won't be able to use it for a few days.' Quietly, she stood and lit a fire in the grate; the dungeons were chilly, even in the approaching summer.
'Leave it,' his voice came from behind her.
She turned around. 'No. Someone needs to get you through this, and it obviously won't be you. You're in shock.' She stepped forward and laid a hand on his forehead to take his temperature, but had it slapped away. He glared at her.
'Why on earth would you want to comfort me?'
'Because I can't even touch her!' Hermione stood over him, hands on her hips, angry now. 'She doesn't know what happened, just has images of what you've seen and what you feel.'
He looked away. 'I'm sorry to have caused Ailie discomfort.'
Hermione sighed in exasperation. 'Snape,' she said, her voice stern, 'Much as you hate to admit it, this is not your fault. Stop with the self- pity.'
She turned back to the table and conjured up a steaming pot of tea, pouring out a large cup. She handed it to him. 'Here Severus, at least drink this. I know you need something to calm you down, even if you don't.' The cup was dashed from her hand, and Snape glared into the fire. She stared down at him for a few moments, her lips slowly forming a thin line. Resolutely, she made another pot of tea and set it by the fire, along with a sugar-laden cup.
'Drink this when you've decided to stop sulking. I will be in Ailie's rooms if you need anything more. If you start to shake, promise me you'll go see Poppy.' There was no response from the silent figure in the chair, and she turned and left.
Tears were again streaming down her face as she made her way back up to Ailie, but she stubbornly wiped them away. The important thing was that he had calmed down; hopefully, Ailie would be feeling some of the benefit.
Her friend was still on the floor when she returned, and Hermione lit a fire and closed the windows, careful to leave the curtains open so that the moonlight could stream in. Ailie was curled up in a ball when she approached her, and Hermione sat beside her, gradually managing to get her arms around the other girl and positioning her so that she was almost in her lap. Ailie slowly began to relax, untensing enough to cry, and Hermione stroked her back as the girl's sobs sounded in her chest. Her own tears slowly made their way down her cheeks, and dampened Ailie's hair where her face rested on the girl's head. Her arms tightened around her friend.
'Please, Severus,' she whispered to the quiet night air.
Down in the dungeons, the flames of the fire slowly ate up the wood, fading until only glowing coals rested in the grate. The teapot sat where Hermione had placed it, clinking as it gradually cooled. It was almost dawn when a pale hand reached forward and poured the pot's liquid into the cup, stirring three times with the spoon before taking it out and setting it on the hearth. The hand gripped the cup, no fear of finding it too hot, and the man before the dead fire sat back in his cold seat. The tea was cold as he sipped it, but he didn't notice.
Incredibly long Author's notes (just skip down if you're not interested, there's no more story): I have been absolutely amazed at all the great reviews everyone has been leaving, and want to thank everyone who reviewed. However, I am a little distressed by one review that referred to the first chapter, and ask the person who wrote it to read the following paragraph:
To whomever left the comment about Paganism but refrained from leaving their email so I could have a chance to rebut: I have removed the word 'Pagan' from the first chapter. It is not my wish to distress anyone. However, I have checked what I said, and indeed did so before I wrote it in the first place. The term 'Pagan' is a broad label that people have used to describe the many and varied religions on the British Isles before the conversion to Christianity in the 7th century. Some of these religions performed blood sacrifice. I was referring only to **ancient** paganism, and in no way meant to indicate any link to the various Pagan religions that exist today, or indeed any other religion at all. (That's kind of why I put 'ancient' before 'Pagans'). I will repeat what I first wrote to 'Makota' the other person who commented on the phrase: "the 'blow on the ancient Pagans' was written as part of Snape's thought patterns. He hates everyone, so of course he's going to see the down side of everything." Also, I used the word 'grunt' because blood lust has been seen to induce a state of near-drunkenness in people, a state where the higher operations of the brain no longer take part. I hope you are no longer distressed.
Again, I ask that if you have a major problem with something in this story, please give me a chance to contact you. As you can see, I'm not nasty, I don't swear at people and I do appreciate criticism, but you can have no idea how it feels to have someone level a criticism at you which you feel is either unfounded or derived from a mistaken impression, and not even have the chance to defend yourself.
Now, on to other people. Uberscully: thank you for yet another complimentary review. Yes, it will end, I promise.
Loki: you shouldn't waste your brain reading my crap! Study, study, study! Good luck on the test.
SlytherinQueen87: No fluff in this chapter, but I promise there will be some soon.
Mad, bad and dangerous: Whew! That is the nicest bunch of things I think anyone has ever said about me. I agree with what you say about the tendency to change characters, and it is one of the things that irritates me in most fanfics (but not all- there's a heap of great stuff out there). Hope you're having fun on the road trip, sounds great. To be compared with Terry Pratchett is far, far beyond what I deserve, but thank you.
Tiani: I think we put him in hideous outfits because he's a naughty boy and needs to be punished. I almost didn't do it to him, but it was just too good an opportunity to be missed, and seemed to logically follow (Ailie has a picture of I Dream of Jeannie in her head, so they accidentally have to conform to everything about the show, including costumes).
Jessicat1982: There will be a snog soon, I promise. Probably in the next couple of chapters. I've already written it.
Pinkey: I'm amazed that you go to so much trouble for this story. Thank you.
Beatrice2005 and Oliver's gurl: strange you should mention smutty novels and pursuing a career in writing.
RedStrawberry900: I hope you didn't get into trouble for using the net. Thank you for reading my story.
HeavenStone, abcjvc, Her Lover's Spy (GREAT name, BTW), Meow, Matraiea and Rachael: Thank you for reviewing, and I hope this chapter was to your liking.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ailie had known something had changed between Snape and Hermione, but she was unable to fathom it. When she finally had time to seek Hermione out to see if she would come with them to Diagon Alley, her friend was sitting by a window in her sitting room, staring blankly outside. She seemed as closed- off as Snape's mind currently was, and resisted all of Ailie's attempts to coerce her into the excursion gently but firmly.
'What's going on, Herm?' Ailie finally asked, sick of subtlety. Hermione looked up at her, and there seemed to be a sadness in her eyes that belonged to someone much older.
'I'm fine, Ailie. I'm just tired.' It was the first time in their friendship that Ailie felt she was being out-and-out lied to.
Ailie managed to at least wrangle an admission of needing some things in Diagon Alley from her friend, and conveniently forgot to take the list with her before she met up with Snape.
'Oh, damn,' she said, just as they were about to walk out of the castle. 'Hermione had a list of stuff she wanted me to get. Do you mind if we go fetch it?' Snape gave her a suspicious look, but acquiesced.
Once they were in Hermione's sitting room, and a startled Hermione was looking for the list Ailie had carefully hidden under one of the sofa cushions, Ailie was better able to gauge the situation between her two companions. Though pretending to have no interest, longing was practically oozing out of Snape's pores as he glanced around the rooms. Ailie hadn't missed the not-look Hermione had given him, either; the sort of I'm-not- looking-at-you avoidance that bespoke the person's absolute desire to look as much as they wanted. Whatever their mouths and brains were saying, Hermione and Snape's bodies were laughing at.
She managed to catch a particularly not-soulful (or, as Ailie read it, completely soulful) glance Snape shot at the open door to Hermione's bedroom as the latter retreated to write a new list. His eyes flickered at the enchanted ceiling visible through the doorway, betraying enough of a smattering of surprise and intrigue for Ailie to feel justified in commenting.
'You're never going to get in there, the way you're going,' she said. Snape turned deliberately to glare at her.
'To what, precisely,' he sneered, 'are you referring?'
Ailie grinned. 'Hermione's bedroom.' Snape opened his mouth for a response, but was interrupted by a flustered-looking Hermione re-entering with a new list.
'There you are,' she said, again avoiding looking directly at Snape. 'If you can't find anything on there very easily, don't worry. I can always send them an order.'
Ailie took the list with a smile, directed more at Snape than at her friend.
When they were well on the way to Hogsmeade, she decided the time was ripe to reintroduce the topic.
'You and Hermione seem to be getting along better,' she said casually, whipping the grass beside the path with a stick. The irritation that suddenly radiated from him was her only answer.
'Just a bit of advice; now would probably be the best time to make a move,' she added.
He stopped and turned on her. 'What?'
'Now. Make a move on her.' She grinned. 'You have just been locked in a room together; a rather cosy situation, wouldn't you say?'
The mental irritation she could sense in him flashed into anger so quickly that Ailie flinched. 'You,' he said, his voice cold, 'did it on purpose.' This time it was Ailie's turn to stay silent, confused as he loomed over her. 'You trapped her in there with me,' he added, glaring. 'On. Purpose.'
Slightly terrified, Ailie shook her head. 'No- no. I swear. I only meant it for you.' Snape stood back, and Ailie felt relief wash over her. The particularly cold brand of fury emanating from Snape slowly ebbed. They turned to walk once more.
After a few minutes, the passage of time had wiped away Ailie's fear, and she began again.
'I just meant that after being alone together for a while- completely accidentally, of course,' she added, with a brief nervous glance at the figure walking beside her, '-that you might have got to know each other better, you know, and maybe you could- er,' Ailie was unfamiliar with how these things were done in the wizarding world, but figured one or two things were pretty much universal. 'Ask her out for a walk one night, or go out on a picnic...' A snort from the man beside her made her nod her head in agreement. 'Okay, maybe you're not a picnic kind of guy, but you could-'
'Ailie, leave it.' The command cut through the air. Ailie considered it for a moment, then ignored it.
'Why not?' she asked. 'You like her, she likes you-' Another snort cut her off, and she decided to try a different tactic. Remembering an approach used by some of the other staff she had seen, which seemed to cut through the wizardly reticence on sensitive matters, she said, 'If you will excuse my speaking plainly-'
'What do you call what you usually do?' Snape muttered, stopping once more to glare at her. Thoroughly frustrated, Ailie faced him, hands on hips. This wasn't going as easily as she had imagined.
'Look,' she said. 'It's obvious. You like her, and she obviously likes you- no, don't glare at me like that, I know that you know it. I can see it in your head. Stop all this stupid avoiding each other and just- I don't know, grab her or something! Or at least get her to go to dinner with you. I don't know how you wizards do it, you make it so complicated- I'll never know how you end up in relationships at all, not that I've seen any-'
Snape stood and waited for her to finish her rant, his expression all patronising patience. When she stopped talking and looked at him, he fixed her in his stare.
'No.'
It took her a few seconds to catch up with him as he turned to continue their walk.
'What?' she asked, all confusion. This was definitely not going the way she had thought it would.
'Do you fail to understand? No. Two letters. I'm certain you have an equivalent word in your native language.'
'But you can't just say no. Why? That's just silly!'
Snape sighed, a familiar weariness coming from him. 'Ailie, it is not your concern. Just- leave it.'
They reached Hogsmeade, and Snape turned, grabbing her hands. Before she could utter a word, the world spun frantically around them, lurching for a few sickening minutes before the brick walls and stone facades of a shopping district appeared. As soon as the world stopped spinning around her, Ailie pulled her hands from Snape's grasp and hit him.
'What did you do that for? You could've killed us!' His dry smile irritated her further.
'It's called Apparition. We use it for convenient and quick travel.'
Ailie glared at him, aware that he was enjoying her discomfort immensely. 'You could've warned me.'
The delights of Diagon Alley, with its bright stores and interesting little nooks, were enough to occupy Ailie for the next two hours, and it wasn't until they were purchasing the items on Hermione's list that she remembered that their conversation hadn't properly finished- at least, not to her satisfaction. As most of the items on Hermione's list appeared to be of the more complicated variety, Ailie had simply handed the list to her companion, who had taken it with surprisingly little grumbling, giving Ailie further satisfaction as to the rightness of her cause. They entered a tiny potions stores shop where Snape simply handed the list over, asking for doubles of some of the items.
As they waited for the clerk to fetch the required ingredients, Ailie leant casually against the counter.
'So, what's stopping you from making a move on Hermione?' she asked, smiling at Snape's small groan.
'Ailie, we have discussed this beyond my tolerance. Leave it be.'
'No,' she said with a smile. 'I don't see why you keep on stepping around it. You know that you both want each other; you even get along quite well, when you're not fighting. It's going to happen sooner or later. Why not start the fun now?'
'Ailie...' His voice held a threat.
'No, just explain to me why. Then I'll never bring it up again.'
Snape closed his eyes briefly, obviously summoning up control. 'Ailie, one day, hopefully soon, you will learn that life is not as simple as you believe.'
'Buzzzz, wrong answer,' she grinned. She was surprised by the look he turned on her; not the usual glare or glower, but possibly the simplest look she had ever seen. It had a lot of sadness in it.
'Ailie, it is not always possible for two people to be together, despite all...' he looked away, obviously searching for the words, 'signs or apparent desires that would indicate the contrary.' Unsatisfied with the answer, Ailie raised her eyebrows encouragingly, and he looked at her. 'Circumstances don't always suit.'
'I don't understand-'
'Must I spell it out for you?' he sighed. 'Do you remember, perhaps, the night we first met? Has that slipped your memory?' His voice was harsh, though Ailie sensed it was not directed at herself. She shivered. The night he mentioned could hardly be forgotten. 'One night, on a night like that one, very soon, my life will be forfeit. I will have very little power over what is done to me, and before I die, I have no doubt that everything that I have concealed and anything that was ever important to me will be discovered and destroyed. Do not wish that your friend will be one of those discoveries.' He turned away, back stiff as he stared at a shelf of rare ingredients.
Ailie was silent for a moment, contemplating what he had said. 'But no-one said you had to marry her, I mean you could just-'
'Flirtation or life-long affair, it makes little difference,' he said, his voice expressionless. 'Hermione Granger is already in enough danger. Any further information on her will only make it easier for anyone who wishes her harm.' Ailie glanced sideways, and took in the stiff set of his lips and his shuttered eyes. There seemed little chance he would continue the conversation. All he had said was valid, Ailie had to admit, but, somehow, she felt that there was more going on there, under the surface.
She would simply have to find it out.
***
Life at Hogwarts seemed to settle back into its routine, and the occasional addition of a nineteen-year-old student in various classes quickly ceased to make a stir. For Ailie's part, she worked at her studies with determination; if she did it to forget that summer was rapidly approaching with no sign from her coven, no one could blame her.
Hermione and Snape also settled into a routine. Their work together progressed relatively comfortably, and if they seemed to work as though there was some sort of force-field around the other, no one mentioned it.
The potion for the upcoming ball was perfected and tested, and set aside to wait for student ingestion. The potion to dissolve the link between Ailie and Snape was not so easy, and the two made frustratingly little progress. The main problem was that the stronger solutions were too dangerous to be tested, as they could possibly cause all mental faculties to dissolve, not just the particular psychic faculty that allowed Ailie and Snape to share thoughts. The weaker solutions, as might be expected, were too weak to have any affect. It was a problem that seemed insurmountable, and all the more difficult as Ailie and Snape seemed to be getting along quite companionably, removing the potentially inspiring quality of necessity.
Two weeks before the ball, and therefore nearing the end of the school year, something happened to divert the course of their experimentations.
Hermione and Ailie had been enjoying a night alone together, a relatively rare occurence of late, due to Ailie's studies and Hermione's various and numerous commitments. They had enjoyed a leisurely dinner in Ailie's rooms, sitting on a rug and enjoying the slight breeze coming in from the open windows. Ailie had been experimenting with the house elves, and had managed to negotiate a particularly sumptuous Italian meal for them, created from recipe books Ginny had been kind enough to send for her. The remains of the meal left on the rug to be cleaned up later, the two of them were sprawled out on the couch, which Ailie had turned around to face the windows.
'I don't think I ever want to eat again,' Hermione said, her hands folded over her stomach.
'You can't talk- you made me eat that last bit of pizza,' Ailie replied.
'The house-elves would have been disappointed if you'd left it,' Hermione said with a smile. 'I don't think they've ever made pizza before.'
'I'll have to send them a thank-you sock.' Hermione smiled at her friend, sleepy in the after-effects of a good meal.
Suddenly, Ailie crumpled up, bending over and clutching at her sides. Hermione sat up, startled. Almost in slow-motion, her friend slumped off the couch, collapsing on the floor. Instinct took over as Hermione knelt beside her, feeling her forehead and trying to get her to sit up.
'Ailie, was it something in the food?' she asked. 'What's wrong?' Her only answer was a groan. She tried to put her arms around the young Wiccan, trying to lift her back up onto the couch, but the girl kept cringing back from her, pushing her hands away in distress. Ailie cringed back against the couch, curling herself up as tightly as she possibly could, her muscles tensed. She stayed silent and still for a few moments, then let out a piercing scream, slumping to the floor once more. Hermione could only look on as the other girl rigidly pulled herself back up, shaking, but obviously more in control. Her wild eyes darted around the room.
'Ailie, please, tell me what's wrong!' Hermione begged, kneeling beside her. Wild eyes fastened on hers.
'Snape. The Andrews house. Fire. It's- it's- no, no, no!' Ailie curled up again, tears silently spilling from her eyes. 'They- they-' Sobs, primal and painful, wracked her body so hard that Hermione was afraid she would choke. A retching sound came from her chest, and Hermione was just able to reach over and turn Ailie's head to prevent her from throwing up on herself. She had to turn away from the grotesque sight as her friend knelt, supporting herself with her hands, and retched on to the floor.
Quickly, wanting to ease the pain in any way possible, Hermione conjured a bowl and managed to clean up the mess in a very short time. Living with Lavender and Parvarti through their discovery of alcohol had, thankfully, inured her to the smell and sight of bile. Getting rid of the refuse, she put another bowl beside Ailie's shivering body before getting a damp cloth and wiping the unresponsive girl's face. Ailie flinched away from something Hermione could not see, pushing herself even further back against the couch as though she was trying to disappear under it. She moaned again, and began rocking, fastening her eyes shut. Hermione could see her teeth grinding together. Ailie's hands gripped her arms so tightly that her nails were cutting into her skin. Instinctively, Hermione reached for her, tried to stop her hurting herself, but couldn't pry her hands away. When she tried to smooth the hair away from her face, the girl grabbed her hand at the wrist and looked furiously at her.
'LEAVE ME,' she commanded. The fire in her eyes was what made Hermione go.
Hermione smoothed away tears as she ran down the hall. She knew that she should probably go to Dumbledore, but there was no time. Besides, what could he do? Hermione knew that he must have seen this mood many times before, and knew how he would have dealt with it. The best way was to simply leave it alone, until it passed; she knew that was what Dumbledore usually did with Snape. But this time it was Ailie.
Caution had no place as she ran down the steps to the dungeon. The door to Snape's office was closed and there was no answer to her knock, but she entered anyway, her haste directing her through the door set off to the side and into Snape's dark sitting room.
The man himself looked up at her abrupt entrance, startlement quickly giving way to anger.
Before he could open his mouth Hermione said, 'Tell me how I can help.'
His face was puzzled for a moment before he began to pace again. It took him a few moments to say, 'Go away, Miss Granger,' and the lack of force in his command worried Hermione more than anything.
'Please, Severus, I know something's wrong. Ailie's so- she's-' The tears in her throat prevented Hermione from speaking for a moment, but she took a deep breath. 'She said something about the Andrews house. Please tell me.'
'Leave it alone, Miss Granger, you don't want to know.' His voice was of a man broken.
'Ailie's up there crying- I need to know how to help her!' The comment seemed to give him pause for thought, and he looked up at her with haunted black eyes.
'There was a- meeting,' he said, his jaw set. 'The home of the Andrews family was its setting. Is that enough information?'
'Oh, my God,' Hermione said, slumping into one of the chairs by the fire. She stared dumbly for a few moments, remembering the outcome of previous attacks. She knew the name Andrews; Arthur Weasley had talked about his work in the ministry several times. 'Is he- are they all right?' There was always the possibility that they hadn't been home.
'He had three small daughters; do you need me to draw you a picture?' he snarled, turning on her. Swiftly, his fist swept past and hit the wall beside her. Hermione winced at the cracking sound. Snape hissed, but continued his furious pacing, ignoring her as she hurried forward and tried to grab his hand. He ripped it from her grasp, his pacing growing even more frantic. 'His wife was taken, still alive. I suppose they're still having their fun with her; I left before...' With a set jaw, he looked down at his broken hand. Hermione was sickened by the calm on his face as he reached down and squeezed it; another crack sounded. 'They left him alive, of course. It wouldn't be a warning otherwise.'
Hermione felt ill, but knew that she was by far the better off of the two at the moment. The potions master was plainly in shock, and if she did nothing, might hurt himself further.
She stood. 'Sit down,' she commanded.
He glared at her. 'These are not your rooms, Miss Granger. Fuck off.'
'*Sit down,*' she again commanded, placing her hands on his shoulders and trying to push. His good hand whipped up and grasped her arm painfully, but she saw something change in his eyes and the grip loosened. All of the tenseness seemed to drain from him, and he slumped into a chair. Hermione knelt by it, looking at him anxiously as she placed the injured hand on the arm of the chair. He stared into the distance, his face without expression as she used her wand to locate and mend the bones he had broken. It took some time; the fragile bones of his hand hadn't stood up too well against solid stone. Hermione was as careful as she could, but still wasn't certain that the use of his hand wouldn't suffer because of it.
'You'll have to go and see Poppy tomorrow,' she said, her quiet voice breaking the stillness of the room. 'There's still some bruising. You won't be able to use it for a few days.' Quietly, she stood and lit a fire in the grate; the dungeons were chilly, even in the approaching summer.
'Leave it,' his voice came from behind her.
She turned around. 'No. Someone needs to get you through this, and it obviously won't be you. You're in shock.' She stepped forward and laid a hand on his forehead to take his temperature, but had it slapped away. He glared at her.
'Why on earth would you want to comfort me?'
'Because I can't even touch her!' Hermione stood over him, hands on her hips, angry now. 'She doesn't know what happened, just has images of what you've seen and what you feel.'
He looked away. 'I'm sorry to have caused Ailie discomfort.'
Hermione sighed in exasperation. 'Snape,' she said, her voice stern, 'Much as you hate to admit it, this is not your fault. Stop with the self- pity.'
She turned back to the table and conjured up a steaming pot of tea, pouring out a large cup. She handed it to him. 'Here Severus, at least drink this. I know you need something to calm you down, even if you don't.' The cup was dashed from her hand, and Snape glared into the fire. She stared down at him for a few moments, her lips slowly forming a thin line. Resolutely, she made another pot of tea and set it by the fire, along with a sugar-laden cup.
'Drink this when you've decided to stop sulking. I will be in Ailie's rooms if you need anything more. If you start to shake, promise me you'll go see Poppy.' There was no response from the silent figure in the chair, and she turned and left.
Tears were again streaming down her face as she made her way back up to Ailie, but she stubbornly wiped them away. The important thing was that he had calmed down; hopefully, Ailie would be feeling some of the benefit.
Her friend was still on the floor when she returned, and Hermione lit a fire and closed the windows, careful to leave the curtains open so that the moonlight could stream in. Ailie was curled up in a ball when she approached her, and Hermione sat beside her, gradually managing to get her arms around the other girl and positioning her so that she was almost in her lap. Ailie slowly began to relax, untensing enough to cry, and Hermione stroked her back as the girl's sobs sounded in her chest. Her own tears slowly made their way down her cheeks, and dampened Ailie's hair where her face rested on the girl's head. Her arms tightened around her friend.
'Please, Severus,' she whispered to the quiet night air.
Down in the dungeons, the flames of the fire slowly ate up the wood, fading until only glowing coals rested in the grate. The teapot sat where Hermione had placed it, clinking as it gradually cooled. It was almost dawn when a pale hand reached forward and poured the pot's liquid into the cup, stirring three times with the spoon before taking it out and setting it on the hearth. The hand gripped the cup, no fear of finding it too hot, and the man before the dead fire sat back in his cold seat. The tea was cold as he sipped it, but he didn't notice.
Incredibly long Author's notes (just skip down if you're not interested, there's no more story): I have been absolutely amazed at all the great reviews everyone has been leaving, and want to thank everyone who reviewed. However, I am a little distressed by one review that referred to the first chapter, and ask the person who wrote it to read the following paragraph:
To whomever left the comment about Paganism but refrained from leaving their email so I could have a chance to rebut: I have removed the word 'Pagan' from the first chapter. It is not my wish to distress anyone. However, I have checked what I said, and indeed did so before I wrote it in the first place. The term 'Pagan' is a broad label that people have used to describe the many and varied religions on the British Isles before the conversion to Christianity in the 7th century. Some of these religions performed blood sacrifice. I was referring only to **ancient** paganism, and in no way meant to indicate any link to the various Pagan religions that exist today, or indeed any other religion at all. (That's kind of why I put 'ancient' before 'Pagans'). I will repeat what I first wrote to 'Makota' the other person who commented on the phrase: "the 'blow on the ancient Pagans' was written as part of Snape's thought patterns. He hates everyone, so of course he's going to see the down side of everything." Also, I used the word 'grunt' because blood lust has been seen to induce a state of near-drunkenness in people, a state where the higher operations of the brain no longer take part. I hope you are no longer distressed.
Again, I ask that if you have a major problem with something in this story, please give me a chance to contact you. As you can see, I'm not nasty, I don't swear at people and I do appreciate criticism, but you can have no idea how it feels to have someone level a criticism at you which you feel is either unfounded or derived from a mistaken impression, and not even have the chance to defend yourself.
Now, on to other people. Uberscully: thank you for yet another complimentary review. Yes, it will end, I promise.
Loki: you shouldn't waste your brain reading my crap! Study, study, study! Good luck on the test.
SlytherinQueen87: No fluff in this chapter, but I promise there will be some soon.
Mad, bad and dangerous: Whew! That is the nicest bunch of things I think anyone has ever said about me. I agree with what you say about the tendency to change characters, and it is one of the things that irritates me in most fanfics (but not all- there's a heap of great stuff out there). Hope you're having fun on the road trip, sounds great. To be compared with Terry Pratchett is far, far beyond what I deserve, but thank you.
Tiani: I think we put him in hideous outfits because he's a naughty boy and needs to be punished. I almost didn't do it to him, but it was just too good an opportunity to be missed, and seemed to logically follow (Ailie has a picture of I Dream of Jeannie in her head, so they accidentally have to conform to everything about the show, including costumes).
Jessicat1982: There will be a snog soon, I promise. Probably in the next couple of chapters. I've already written it.
Pinkey: I'm amazed that you go to so much trouble for this story. Thank you.
Beatrice2005 and Oliver's gurl: strange you should mention smutty novels and pursuing a career in writing.
RedStrawberry900: I hope you didn't get into trouble for using the net. Thank you for reading my story.
HeavenStone, abcjvc, Her Lover's Spy (GREAT name, BTW), Meow, Matraiea and Rachael: Thank you for reviewing, and I hope this chapter was to your liking.