"This was not what we had discussed, Severus."
Albus Dumbledore was not pleased, if his voice was any indication of his present mood. The fact that his eyes were missing their usual twinkle was the second give away.
Currently, the two of them were standing in the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey was fluttering around her new patient. The headmaster and Hagrid had met him in Hogsmead. Hagrid had cooed over the python from the moment he saw it, and had decided to make her his new pet. It was a good thing too, because Snape had the distinct impression that the thrice damned snake was waiting for the right moment to eat him. At the moment she was curling around the large gamekeeper, slithering in and out of his coat as if she owned him.
"I understand that, Professor, but I didn't think she would respond this way to the potion. No one should. Besides, this is the best place for someone like her."
Before Dumbledore could ask why several beakers in the room shattered, followed by a sigh from Madam Pomfrey.
"I believe she is a witch, but untrained."
"And as such Hogwarts would be the best place for her." Dumbledore tilted his head. "Are you all right, Madam Pomfrey?"
The nurse sighed heavily. "Fine, Professor Dumbledore, but my beakers aren't. Every last one of the over here is broken."
"And Ms Elvbow?"
"Asleep, thank goodness, though I don't know how much good it's doing her."
Dumbledore and Snape walked over to the bed. She was asleep, but she was still pale and sweaty, her muscles twitching slightly in the dim light. "Can you do nothing for her pain?" The headmaster asked, his voice full of concern. There was little doubt in his mind that the woman laying before him was suffering from something.
"I've tried," Madam Pomfrey wiped Marian's forehead with a damp towel. "I've done all I can for the moment. Hopefully she'll start to recover in a few hours. And you," she glared daggers at Snape. "You should know better than to give anything to an unknown muggle! That potion could have killed her! It still might!"
Snape didn't look contrite in the least. "We needed to know everything about her we could. I did what I believed was necessary."
Before the two of them could sink into an argument, Dumbledore intervened. "I will tell the Ministry what you have discovered at once. As Hagrid has taken a liking to her pet, it seems that for the moment you have only your classes to worry about."
Snape nodded and followed Dumbledore out of the infirmary. Hopefully, things would be returning to normal very soon. He turned and looked back at the door. "I trust your expertise will prevent any lasting damage, Poppy."
The nurse looked at him. "So do I." She looked down at Marian, laying a soft hand on her forehead. "You're right though, she shouldn't have reacted this way at all."
Snape headed back to his dungeon, fighting down the remorse that was threatening to surface. Having another death on his hands was the last thing he looked forward too this year. After another moment he corrected himself. That wasn't the last thing.
The last thing was dealing with a gaggle of self-righteous Gryffindors. At least one of those disasters could be avoided.
He hoped.
"What do you suppose is wrong with Snape?"
Ron and Harry glanced at Professor Snape, who was sitting staring into his plate. "What do you mean?" The red head asked, taking a long drink of his juice.
Hermione sighed. "He hasn't eaten or drunk anything all night. He looks occupied or something."
Ron snorted. "Probably wondering how to torture us tomorrow. Thank goodness he didn't get the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year too. Could you imagine having that man twice a day?"
They all looked to the woman sitting next to Snape, a tall blond who was to be their fifth professor in as many years.
"Do you think she's any good?" Ron asked.
"I don't know, Ron. They have been getting better at picking people, haven't they? I mean, Professor Lupin was great, and Professor Moody was good-"
"Except that wasn't really Moody," Harry finished, not looking up from his roast beef.
"And who do you think this 'guest' is supposed to be."
At the beginning of the feast Dumbledore had warned them that they would more than likely have a guest that year at Hogwarts, but he didn't elaborate before beginning the feast. Every table was buzzing with rumors on who the guest was supposed to be.
"I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Hermione answered.
Ron clapped Harry on the back. "Sure we will. You know how well secrets keep around this place, even the really important ones."
Harry sighed. He knew that all too well.
Marian jerked awake. Someone had to be pouring acid onto her stomach. It felt like she was lying on a hospital bed, but she was definitely not in a hospital. There were no machines, no beeping, and the room didn't smell like antiseptic. In fact, she'd never been in a room like this before in her life. It was huge, with several beds lined up along the walls, the ceiling so tall it was lost in the gloom.
Another spasm hit, and she rolled out of bed. How the hell did she get here? The last thing she remembered was having a glass of wine with someone. What was his name? Severe? Septimus? Where the hell had he taken her? Some kind of castle? The floor beneath her was uneven and rough, almost like cobblestones.
"I'll kill him. If I find him I'll kill that son of a bitch," she muttered. She had to move, she had to get out of here, get away. She was in no condition to deal with anyone, especially not a man at least twice her size.
She made her way unsteadily to what she assumed was the entrance. The doors of the room were huge, and thankfully unlocked. She pushed them open and checked the hall. Whoever owned this place seriously needed help. There were actual torches lining the walls, all currently lit and flickering happily. She began sliding down the hallway, leaning heavily on the walls since her legs were about to give out on her. She was covered in sweat. She could feel it trickling down her back, making the stones beneath her feet slippery.
"Are you all right?"
Marian jumped. She looked up and down the hallway, but no one was there.
"I say, can you hear me?"
It was a girl, whoever it was. There was nowhere for her to hide, so who in the hell was talking?
"Up here, lady."
Marian looked up. There was a rather large picture on the wall behind her of a young woman sitting on a blanket in the middle of green field. The girl was… was…
Moving.
"Not again. No No No," Marian gasped as the woman stood up and walked closer to her, her clothes swaying in a light breeze.
"Are you all right? Should I send for someone?"
"NO!" Marian ran, not caring that she was scraping her side along the wall. She half tripped down a short flight of stairs and collapsed, trying to get her bearings. Two hallways lead away from the staircase, with nothing to distinguish either. She took the one on the left, and shivered as a blast of cold air went past. She was shaking, but she didn't care. She was not crazy. There was no way that picture could be talking to her. Her vision was blurring again, and the pain in her stomach was spreading throughout her torso and legs. She didn't know if she'd be able to get up, but she tried. She eventually climbed to her feet, and started to half run, half fall down the hall. There was whispering around her, a constant rolling that came from over her head. It was coming from the pictures, she knew it was. They were talking to her.
"Miss?"
"I say, madam! Do you need help?"
"What's wrong with her?"
Pictures can't talk. You know they can't. You're just having another episode. Remember what the doctors told you, it's all in your head. If you can find your meds it'll all stop. They'll all go away. You have to find him, he knows what's going on here. You are not crazy. You're not!
The pain was getting worse. It felt like something was trying to split her in half.
"Madam. Do you need help?"
This voice was right in front of her. She looked up.
And saw a ghost.
It was a man, dressed like some kind of nobleman, with a heavy frill under his chin.
"I'm Sir Nicholas, madam. Are you in need of assistance?"
"You're not real," she whispered, shaking her head. "You're not real."
The ghost laughed. "I assure you madam. I am quite real. Do you need help? Are you trying to reach the Great Hall?"
Marian tried to back away, but she slipped and landed hard, hitting her head on the stones. Her nose was bleeding again, but she didn't care. "It's not real," she sobbed, curling into a ball. "It's not."
"What's going on?"
Hermoine nodded to the professors tables, and Ron and Harry turned around. The Bloody Baron was talking to Dumbledore, and they could tell, even this far away, that he was worried. He motioned to Snape and Hagrid. Madam Pomfrey got up also, and all four left through the door behind the tables.
"I don't know," Ron answered. "It must be big, though. I don't think I've ever seen Dumbledore look that worried, except when you reappeared last year after the tournament."
Harry shivered. What happened last semester during the Triwizard Tournament was something he didn't like remembering.
Without speaking, the three got up and headed for the Great Hall's doors, and once they got outside broke into a flat run. They caught sight of the foursome running down one of the corridors, Hagrid's heavy footfalls echoing around them. Whatever was happening, it was serious.
They slowed down when they heard the sound of crying. They'd obviously found the source of the problem. "Is she all right?" That was Snape, Harry knew that voice anywhere. He actually sounded…concerned? Carefully they looked around a corner.
Nearly-Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron were floating above Dumbledore, Snape and Hagrid. Madam Pomfrey was kneeling over someone who was curled into a ball on the floor.
"Is she hurt?" Professor Dumbledore's voice carried to them.
"She's got a goose egg coming up on the back of her head, and her nose is bleeding too much for my liking," Madam Pomfrey answered. "Hagrid, please. We need to get her back to the infirmary."
Hagrid kneeled down and picked the person up without effort. They caught sight of one pale foot before the games keeper turned towards them. The woman was clutching Hagrid's beard like she wouldn't let go, but he didn't see to mind. He went past them without a word, Madam Pomfrey at his shoulder. Harry caught one fleeting look at the woman before she passed. He couldn't believe it…
"What are you three doing here?"
Professor Snape sounded livid, and Harry didn't have to turn around to know the man was looking daggers at the three of them, but especially at Harry. He'd had it in for him ever since he arrived at Hogwarts five years ago. Hermione and Ron seemed to attract the potions master's ire simply through association.
"We were just walking back to the Great Hall from the bathrooms," Hermione said quickly. "We heard someone crying."
"I know her," Harry blurted out.
This caught the attention of both professors.
"How do you know her, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked calmly.
Harry blinked. "She was my teacher for a few months before I started at Hogwarts. English Composition. She left near the middle of the term. Ms. Elvbow."
Professor Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other. "Do you know why she left, Harry?"
Harry thought for a moment. Why had she left? She'd been a good teacher, impartial, and passed out the best chocolate he'd had till then. "Medical reasons, I think. Why is she here?"
Dumbledore sighed. "Ms Elvbow is the guest I spoke of at dinner tonight. I trust that the three of you will not spread this knowledge to the rest of the school?" he added that with his customary twinkle, though there was steel behind his words.
"No, professor," the three answered almost in sync.
The old wizard smiled. "Good. I will ask the same of you two as well." he added, looking pointedly at Nick and the Baron, both of whom nodded solemnly. That settled Dumbledore started down the hall. "Come Severus, I believe the young lady in question will be calmer in your presence."
Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched the two start down the hallway.
"Please, you have to calm down!"
Snape blinked when he walked into the infirmary. Both Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey were standing a good distance away from Marian, displaying all the caution of a dragon trainer with a new fire breather. Marian had one hand clutching her stomach; the other held a beaker aloft, ready to throw it at either of them.
Madam Pomfrey took a step forward. "Miss, please. I'm a nurse and you're obviously sick-"
"Get the hell away from me!" she yelled, throwing a beaker before picking up another one.
"Please miss, we're only tryin ta help ya," Hagrid said softly, holding both his hands in front of him.
Snape walked forward. Hopefully a familiar face would calm her down. "Ms. Elvbow, please-"
"Where the hell have you taken me!?"
Snape wasn't prepared for the feeling of something hitting him in the solar plexus, almost knocking him off his feet. Another one followed the first one, catching him in the stomach.
"Madam, I must ask you to calm down," Dumbledore said, stepping in front of him to allow him time to recover. Snape rubbed at the sore spot forming on his chest. She was untrained, but she had power, of that he was certain, and at the moment it was focused on him.
"I am NOT going to calm down! Who are you people? Where am I?"
Dumbledore started moving slowly towards her. "You're at a school, Ms. Elvbow, perfectly safe. Now, please put that down and we'll talk further."
For an old man, the headmaster could certainly move when necessary. She launched another beaker at him full speed, and he ducked with time to spare. "Go to hell!"
Finally Dumbledore took out his wand. "Patrifi-"
The scream was punctuated with the sound of glass shattering around the infirmary. If Snape didn't know better, he'd think someone was killing her. By the time the high pitched hum that punctuated the scream ended Marian was backed against a wall, looking like a cornered tiger, clutching a piece of broken glass so hard blood had started to drip from her hand and pool on the floor. She looked dazed, yet fully prepared to strike out if necessary.
"Please, Ms.-"
"Ms. Elvbow?"
Snape turned around. Potter, Granger, and Weasly were standing behind them. Both Granger and Weasly looked afraid, but Potter looked more…determined.
"Ms. Elvbow, do you remember me?"
Slowly, the boy walked past him, and over to the woman. "It's me, Harry. I was one of your students."
"Harry?" she looked confused, eyes darting from them to Harry as he walked closer. "Harry Potter? What are you doing here?"
"It's all right," he continued in the same soothing voice. "They're trying to help you, Ms. Elvbow. They wont hurt you."
Snape could have shouted in relief as some of the fear went out of the woman's eyes. She still looked wary, but the hand that held the glass shard had lowered slightly. "Promise?" her voice was small, almost like that of child.
"Promise," he was standing right in front of her by the time he looked at her hand. "Can I have that?"
Marian looked at her hand as if noticing it for the first time, then turned the blood-streaked glass over to the boy guiltily.
"I'll help ya back ta bed then," Hagrid said, picking her up without effort and carrying her a short distance to one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey was already there, with solution and bandages ready. "Here, dear," she said, handing her a glass. "This will help you sleep."
As she drank the thick liquid she continued to stare with an expression of total blankness, not even wincing at what Snape knew was a harsh, bitter flavor. For some reasons, he'd rather her anger than this detached complacence. It reminded him of a sleepwalker. Within seconds her eyes were fluttering, and she was asleep.
Dumbledore seemed to deflate as a soft snore echoed from the bed. "Professor Snape, if you will, please walk Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley back to the Great Hall and return with Professors Calafas, and Flitwick."
Snape nodded and without a backwards glance walked past them. "Come on," he said shortly.
"Will she be all right?" he heard Potter ask.
"We will see, Harry. Please go with Professor Snape."
Snape walked back to the Hall trying to keep his apprehension from showing. Something was wrong with that woman, and he had the sneaking suspicion they had a very short amount of time to find out what.
By the time the three professors returned it was apparent the house elves had been busy. Every speck of broken glass had been swept away, and the cabinet that housed Madam Pomfrey's beakers was once again full, Marian occupying the bed furthest from it. Hagrid had taken up station at the woman's bedside, one of her hands lost in his as Dumbledore and Pomfrey spoke a short distance away.
"Oh my," Calafas whispered, brushing past him and going to the bed. "How long has she been this way, Madam Pomfrey?"
"She's been unconscious for a few minutes now, Professor Calafas." The nurse answered. "I hoped you would be able to help discern what is wrong with her."
The woman nodded, and began running her hands slowly over Marian's body, starting at her head and working down.
"Who is she, Albus?" Professor Flitwick asked.
The headmaster glanced briefly at Snape before starting. "She is someone who walked quite accidentally into our world, though I am now certain that she should have been a part of it from the start. She is the woman who walked into the Leaky Cauldron yesterday."
Flitwick looked surprised. "I thought that woman was a muggle."
"So did we, but it seems Severus discovered otherwise."
Snape fought the urge to blush. It hadn't been his intention to cause this kind of mess when he was sent to the woman.
"Ah!"
They all turned to Gillian Calafas, who was standing with both her hands hovering over the unconscious woman's stomach. She moved them closer slowly, as if fighting against some unseen force before pulling them away as if from a fire.
"Nasty stuff, that," she said, shaking out her hands. "Someone's put a curse on her, that's for certain." She shook her head. "It's an old one, too, from what I can tell."
"Can you lift it, Professor?" Albus asked.
Calafas shook her head. "Not until we figure out what kind of curse it is," she sighed, and her Irish accent became more noticeable in her worry. "I've never come across somethin' like this before. And even if we figure it out, I'm sure I wont be able to do this alone."
"Very well then. Professor's, I'd like to enlist your aid in helping this woman. Until then, Madam Pomfrey, I'll ask that you keep her asleep at all times."
The nurse nodded. "I'll make sure Lena and Sara know." Lena and Sara were two seventh years that were studying medicinal magic first hand. "Lady Alberta, will you alert me if she starts to wake?"
The transparent figure of Alberta, one of the previous head nurses floated down from a portrait. "Certainly, Poppy."
" And I can assume that you will be handling her pet Missy, Hagrid?"
Hagrid nodded. "Right nice snake she is too. She's stayin' in me cabin for the time bein'"
"Severus?" Snape returned his attention to Dumbledore. "I'm going to place a rather cumbersome burden on you for the time being. You have still had the most contact with her, and I feel you could be of great assistance in dealing with her."
Snape snorted. "Trying to get her to kill me, Headmaster?"
That damnable twinkle returned at his words. "Nothing of the sort. She focused on you because you were known to her. A familiar face, no matter how disliked, would be better than a sea of strangers."
Severus nodded, if only to save himself the trouble of fighting a losing battle. No one won against Dumbledore when his mind was set on something, and at the moment it was set on him being this woman's guardian.
As if he didn't have enough problems already.
"Now that that's settled, I suggest each of us retire for the night," Professor Dumbledore said. The professors were filing out when Severus heard Pomfrey say quietly. "There's something I think you should see, Headmaster."
Dumbledore walked to the bed while Severus waited near the door. At the moment he had no inclination to be anywhere near the quick-tempered, violent young woman, even if she was unconscious.
"Look," Gently, she turned over the limp hand, and even from that distance he could feel Dumbledore's surprise.
Albus pushed his glasses up as Madam Pomfrey turned their guest's arm over. There were several horizontal scars along the woman's wrist, and one that traveled the length of her arm from wrist to elbow.
"Hagrid," Dumbledore took the bandaged hand and examined it. Identical markings were on this arm was well. They were pale and slightly raised. Clearly they had once been formidable injuries. "I can assume that these are self inflicted, Poppy?"
The nurse nodded. " They're too much alike to be accidental, and I doubt someone would do this to another person."
Dumbledore sighed. "It appears our guest becomes more of an enigma the longer she stays," he laid her hand gently by her side. "Are you planning on staying here, Hagrid? I understand you have an interesting lesson planned for the Care of Magical Creatures classes tomorrow."
The half-giant looked slightly abashed. Snape knew that Hagrid hated seeing anyone or anything in pain, and would try his hardest to fix whatever he thought was wrong. "Just for a minute, Professor Dumbledore. Thought I'd tell 'er how 'appy Missy is an all."