CHAPTER FIVE: "Aftermath"

Madame Pomfrey stared at the two Slytherin students in her infirmary.

Snape was still unconscious, but Vox had to be calmed down with a Morphus Charm to be able to sleep at all, and even then she was crying fitfully in her sleep.

Much as common sense told her the idea would not work and how ridiculous it was, her gut told her otherwise. After some delicate rearranging, she placed the sleeping girl next to the unconscious boy in his bed.

Martis' arm seemed to automatically drape around his chest and she quieted as she snuggled close and fit against his body as if it were completely natural.

Pomfrey place her hand over her mouth in the silence, disbelieving the obvious Bond before her. Adults, yes, she expected it - but not in a pair so young!

It implied things about the two children she did not want to consider yet.

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Remus Lupin had awakened early the next morning, still feeling empty as he quietly got dressed and left his dorm room.

If Sirius had not been serving detention with Hagrid over that silly business with the inflatable sheep, he probably would have joined him and James in their 'send-off' to Durmstrang the previous night.

If there was anything that he could be called, a 'rapist' was not one of them. He certainly hoped Karkaroff got his comeuppance from his classmates and his scary Headmistress.

Lupin quietly opened the door to the hospital wing and saw Madame Pomfrey sitting next to a bed and darning something.

In the bed was Miss Britomartis ... and Snape.

With Pomfrey looking over them.

Lupin shut the door and felt for a reaction. Then decided that he saw nothing - it was probably a early manifestation of the dementia for tonight's full moon. Pomfrey would not allow students to share a bed, must less be looking after them as well.

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Sev and Martis both became aware of their surroundings at nearly the same time, as well as being quite aware of holding each other in one of the soft hospital beds.

Their eyes snapped open and they gazed at each other.

"How did we get here?" she whispered.

Sev shook his head. "I don't know, but Pomfrey's going to kill us - "

"I already know," the school nurse said next to them. "Because I placed you here."

Both students blushed and moved away from each other. Pomfrey smirked.

"Don't bother," she added. "I kept a watch on you both the whole night. I felt ... this was better treatment than simple charms."

Martis sat up, rubbing the shoulders of her infirmary-issued pink pajamas. "Is he gone?"

"That nasty boy who tried to hurt you? Indeed. They left within an hour of the occurrence."

Sev drew his knees up, his infirmary-issued white pajamas looking unnatural with his aura. "Pity. I was going to kill him."

"We know," Pomfrey sniffed. "You were hit with two dozen silencing charms which knocked you out before you could summon those Dark Angels." She shivered. "I respect your rage, Mr. Snape, but you know that Dark Arts will not be used on these grounds."

Sev lowered his head to his knees as Martis scooted next to him and rested her temple against his hand.

"So how much trouble are we in?" Martis asked.

Dumbledore's voice replied, "None at all."

Pomfrey looked up to the Headmaster, then got up and went to another part of the hospital wing.

Martis gazed up at him. "I hear most other cultures blame the woman when she is or is about to be raped because she encouraged the rapist by being born female."

"Do you think I would do such a thing?" Dumbledore asked as he sat down in Pomfrey's chair.

She shook her head. "No."

"And I won't. Mr. Karkaroff's actions were horrible and perverse - he is the one to blame." He leaned close. "If we had any idea what sort of person he was, he would not have been allowed in the school."

Martis' eyes narrowed. "And yet you know exactly what Sirius Black is and he's still attending."

Dumbledore gave one of those infuriating grins that seemed to calm Martis slightly. "Sirius Black is irresponsible, short-sighted, and somewhat of a lackwit, but not consciously evil. Those can be cured with patient effort. Mr. Karkaroff, on the other hand, was consciously evil. It is an easy error, my dear Martis, to mistake stupidity for malevolence, but there is a clear difference. That is why this is a school and not a military training camp - stupidity can only be cured by enlightenment. We prepare our students to battle Evil within and without, and enlighten them before stupidity can be turned to Evil."

Sev made a sound that might have been described as a strangled chuckle. "With Black and his Communal Marriage, that would seem to be an uphill battle."

"Perhaps, but the redemption of a soul is a battle worth fighting. Perhaps more so than avenging one's friends." He gave both reassuring pats on the heads. "You can argue and complain - excellent! A good sign. You both rest, we shall have a meal sent to you."

Sev still regarded him through narrow eyes. "No lecture about my trying to summon Dark beings?"

"We'll get to that, we'll get to that; Severus," Dumbledore assured him as he got up.

As the Headmaster left, Martis gazed at Sev. "Was it revenge?"

Sev looked away. "I don't know." He inhaled deeply. "I wasn't thinking, I just ... reacted."

She reached up and patted her hair, now messy and all over the place from the previous night's activities. "I was going to kill him. I remember that Unforgivable you tried to cast at that Dark Wizard ... and I was ... going to use it ... "

"You aren't Dark enough," Sev told her. "It requires a soulless Darkness to be able to cast that one because it is a Death Curse."

"You aren't soulless."

"Which is probably where I went wrong in my descent into evil."

"And you aren't evil." She embraced him.

"No, just Dark and twisted and tainted."

"I couldn't love you if you were." She pulled away slightly, staring into his face.

Sev looked up at her, then lay his head on her shoulder and broke into tears.

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Voldemort studied the second letter from his Hogwarts recruiter with a barely controlled chuckle.

He glanced up at Confutatis Maledictis Snape, whom had entered the room with his hooked nose in the air. "Snape, please come before me."

"I do as you will, Dread Lord." The Dark aristocrat bowed his head.

The Dark Lord sneered slightly at Snape not prostrating himself properly.

"There is one at Hogwarts who is distracting your son, Snape," Voldemort said. "This one who makes your son turn to the Light instead of paying heed to his Dark studies."

The Senior Snape snorted. "My son is not that much of a fool."

"According to Sartoris, he is a much larger fool than you imagine. He hasn't been to the Restricted Section of the library in over a month and has abandoned his studies entirely. Instead, he has been learning to dance, especially with one girl in particular."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Ridiculous, My Lord."

"Indeed," Voldemort sighed. "If your son truly has his father's Dark blood, then such things are distractions. And distractions ... such as courtship ... are counteractive to our goals."

"Who is this person?"

Voldemort smirked. "A little girl." The smirk became a cold leer. "Although one is hard-pressed to call her 'little' considering her maturity." The cold leer left his inhuman face. "One of those old snake-charmers from the Mediterranean Basin. Time and destiny has slapped their culture down; it keeps rising up over and over again. Right now it is attaining ascendancy on the Isle of Crete. White magic, I'm afraid. The Darker Arts were abandoned, and lie covered as profoundly as the ancient temples under seventy feet of volcanic ash."

"What is the girl's name? I'll make sure she doesn't interfere," Snape hissed.

"I claim responsibility for this one," Voldemort admitted. "She was one of my early projects, another child I had planned to bring into my fold like the others, but her resistance to any attempts of coercion have fallen flat. I had rather hoped that she and your son - in their connecting to each other - would provide us with yet another follower, but ... certain events ... have shown that she will become too dangerous to keep."

Snape sniffed, not quite following, but keeping his mouth shut.

"You should be proud of him though, Snape," the Dark Lord continued. "According to Professor Sartoris, the boy has practiced what he learned from you. Once his control slips, he reverts right back to what you've taught him - this past Yule has proven this true. Seems he got into a fight over this girl with one of my Durmstrang proteges and used the Dark Arts against him."

Snape grinned coldly, understanding such things. "Excellent."

"Quite impressive - if she had not interrupted, it would have been a lovely piece of destruction. This is why I must remove her and keep your son under watch. I have begun a plan to remove the girl. Your son's life will be restored to what it was before she arrived - a life devoted to the study of the Dark Arts and the application of these Arts." Voldemort's voice dropped. "She is giving him too much Light, and we will lose him if this continues."

"Be best to kill the girl, then."

"No. I have something more exquisite in mind for a punishment for both her and your son." He smiled, speaking to himself. "The future belongs to the strong - and the subtle. To shape the destiny of worlds, a sculptor's touch is required, not hammer blows. Our materials are at hand, and the lightning has briefly illuminated the vista. The artwork that is tomorrow may now be shaped - but properly."

Snape Senior frowned; he was not a deep man, and the Dark Lord was waxing too metaphysical for him to follow. Instead of trying to find understanding, he fell back on his first impulse.

"Command me, My Lord."

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CHAPTER SIX: "Healing"

The following week up until New Year's was a quiet one at Hogwarts. No one talked about the Triwizard Tournament, and the goings-on during the Yule Ball had reached the point in which nobody wanted to speak of it, either.

Slytherin would always remember, for it was one of their number that had been assaulted.

Martis and Sev had returned to their House and had become silent fixtures in the common room ... Sev sitting on the couch and reading while Martis leaned against his back and wrapped her arms around him. They would sit like this for hours, not saying a single word, but the more sensitive among the Slytherins knew things were being exchanged between the two on other levels that did not require voice.

People left them alone, and that is all they wanted.

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"How long are they going to be like that?" Slytherin House Master Gallo Penderdandis asked.

House Mother Rowena Price shrugged, watching the two students sit quietly in the common room. "I did talk with the girl a bit. She says she's working out what had happened."

"And draping herself over Mr. Snape is helping?" Penderdandis sniffed.

"Gallo, you haven't the heart to break it up, either."

"Well, I do hope this works out properly by the time classes start again. I will not grant either permission to drag the other to their class for them to look like Siamese twins."

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It was one evening after Martis had gone to bed when Penderdandis approached Sev and said, "The Headmaster wishes to see you, Mr. Snape."

Sev nodded, closing his book and getting up to follow his House Master out of the common room and to the gargoyle niche of the Headmaster's office. After he had gained entry, he stepped into the book-scented office.

"You wished to see me, sir?" Sev asked quietly.

Dumbledore nodded and descended the staircase from the library loft. "How is Martis?"

Sev shrugged, looking away. "She doesn't talk much. The last few days have resulted in less than twenty words from her."

"Then what are you two doing?"

Sev looked up sharply. "Stay on the couch - I read, she leans against me. That's all."

Dumbledore raised his hand. "I wasn't implying anything, Severus, I was merely curious."

"Sorry, sir." Sev folded his arms. "This is about the Dark beings, isn't it?"

"Yes." Dumbledore sat down and motioned Sev to sit as well. "Remember that discussion we had back during your First-Year?"

Sev nodded. During the Fall Festival of his First-Year, he had accidentally summoned a real dragon (as opposed to an illusion) on Gryffindor Tower in retaliation against what the Marauders had done to him. "You're going to contact my father again, aren't you?"

"No. The circumstances around the reason for the attempted summoning are more legitimate than last time's. I have nearly all of the staff begging me to not punish you for it, even though the replacement of the Great Hall's windows strained the school budget."

"My apologies, Headmaster, for shattering the windows. I was not aware the energies would result in any physical damage outside the target." He brushed hair back into his braid and gazed down at the floor, looking like the sixteen-year-old boy he was rather than a fountain of Dark Arts knowledge. "If you are looking for an apology for my use of them, that I'm afraid I cannot do."

"I don't expect you, too. But, Severus, please remember that any use of the Dark Arts in this school is still considered forbidden - I still ask you to not use them here, no matter what happens."

He looked up again. "I have not used Dark Arts in over four years, sir."

"I know, Son. And I am proud of you for that." His mouth curled up into a smile in his beard. "Once Martis comes back to herself, I'm sure things will go back to normal with pranks and ice cream raids."

Sev nodded, smiling despite himself. "Yes, they will."

He got up to leave and Dumbledore said, "And Severus?"

Sev turned. "Yes, sir?"

"Take her flying around the pitch after dark soon, that'll cheer her up."

Sev's mouth fell open, then he grinned and left the office.

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Martis did not want to think the past week; she just wanted to be quiet and hold Sev and wish the world away. He was comforting and safe, allowing her to hold him for hours at a time as he read.

There was nothing to think about. Any time her mind wandered back to that night, she played out the different scenarios until she was the one succeeding in killing that rapist bastard.

In some versions, she dreamed that Karkaroff managed to achieve his plan, and she responded with suicide.

Others, she imagined Sev had finished casting the summons of the Dark Angels and Karkaroff was tortured to death by dark figures with lambent wings and shiny armor.

And there were some in her darkest thoughts that replaced Karkaroff with Sev and she willingly accepted his ravishment.

These were the ones that made her disgusted with herself for even thinking of them.

But most of the time was spent feeling his back against her chest and smelling his braided hair and the thin material of his tunic against her cheek and his waist where her arms were rounded and the pulse of his heartbeat.

The Thursday after New Year's he closed his book, turned around in her arms, and whispered, "We're going flying tonight."

Martis stared at him. "What?"

"After everyone's asleep we're going flying tonight. Over the pitch." He kissed her forehead. "Be ready; I'll meet you in the common room just before midnight."

Martis nodded dumbly.

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Sev quietly dressed in his warmest clothes, pilfered Evan's cloak, and silently escaped his dorm room, finding Martis in the common room with her broom in one hand.

He clutched her hand in his and led her out of the common room, through the dungeons, then out of the school and toward the Quidditch stadium. Entering the prep-room, they opened the flaps to the pitch.

"I promised to take you flying," he said softly.

Martis nodded. "Yes, you did. But only during a school dance."

"It's needed." Sev picked her hand up and kissed her knuckles. "Besides, you haven't laughed in over a week and I miss it."

"Been ... " She let the word hang, then mounted her broom and took off into the darkness.

Sev mounted his and shot off after her, feeling the freezing winds whip his braid back. He followed her, keeping tabs on her emotional reactions to flying.

After ten minutes, she still seemed listless - she had not even once tried a loop-de-loop.

Swooping around in her line of vision, Sev called out, "Check out my barrel rolls!"

"Snips! You know you can't do barrel rolls!"

He leaned to the side, rolling over so his back was level with the ground, then moved around ... and got stuck in a quick roll over and over which made him dizzy as he zigged-zagged to gain his balance.

He heard her snort, which was followed by a giggle. Pulling himself back up, he straightened out in time to fly through the goal hoop and almost into one of the faculty stands.

Sev veered, narrowly missing the stand, and managed to pull himself back into standard flight. He looked up to see Martis diving down toward him, a grin across her face.

"Snips!"

"Good, you're laughing," he returned, plowing up through the air toward her and hovering level. "Prettier when you laugh."

Martis' grin fell into a tired smile. "You're good for my soul, Severus."

Sev reached across, brushing her bangs from her eyes. "As you are for mine, my Martis."

They flew over the pitch for several more hours.

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