A/N: Aha! I knew I could do it! I knew I defeat all odds and update!
I know it's been awhile...
Ernie: More. Than. A. While. Cinammon.
::sigh:: Yes, you're absolutely right, Ernie. ::hangs head:: I'm really sorry, but I'm sure that I don't have to explain how life can sometimes get in the way of fiction. Have just finished an Organisational Theory and Behaviour paper (1800 words!), and should be working on my Demography essay, for which I haven't even chosen a title yet, but I haven't updated for far too long, and homework will have to wait!
Not all of it was my fault, mind you. I've been trying to upload this chapter for the last week, but our beloved ff .net and Ernie just wouldn't let me, for some strange reason. It's a conspiracy I tell you! ::shakes fist dramatically at the heavens above::
I hope that the fact that this is the longest chapter I have ever written, makes up for the delay...
Ernie: Do. We. Have. Time. For. Some. Quick. Thank. Yous?
I think we owe them this much Ernie, but they'll have to be quick.
Ernie: Thank. You. Anna.
I trust the holidays were good for you? Yes, I think we're all wondering over Talia's and Draco's future relationship, but we'll have to wait a bit for that.
Ernie: CharmedSisters
Ooh, catty! Why, did you fancy a little fried Draco? Because that's exactly what would have happened if I let Talia use her powers. Can you imagine the paperwork that would have caused? I felt sorry for Dumbledore.
Ernie: Thank. You. Ori.
Cruising for a bruising, huh? My dad used to use that expression and I haven't heard it in ages, but it fits Draco to a 'T'. In the books, he's always cruising for a bruising. Talia isn't giving him the attention he wants and it's pissing him off. After what happened between them in the summer, that can be detrimental to a guy's self-confidence, even a guy as arrogant as Draco. I wonder what he'll do about it...
Ernie: Nexos23
Hope you like this one just as much!
Ernie: Svata2004
I'm sorry you had to wait so long to see what happens next, but here it finally is: the next chapter! Enjoy it!
Ernie: Harrypotterfan4eva
Flattery will get you everywhere, darling! Hehe! I'm honoured that you think I'd make a good author, but I'm well aware that, no matter how much I enjoy writing, I'd never be good enough to make a career out of it. Lucky for me, there's always websites like this and kind people like you, to accept my mediocre writing. You want good authors? Check out Kyra4, bk and Gravidy for D/Hr, Silver Phoinix25 for R/Hr, She's a Star for R/Hr, H/G and S/S (Snape/Sinistra – don't knock 'till you've tried it) and Leyna Rountree for S/Hr. In fact, take a look through all of my favourites for some very good reading that will have you forgetting my little stories and entertained for hours!
Ernie: Mcgirl
Stop baiting me to try and get me to divulge what happens next! It's all too tempting you know, but I'm keeping my mouth shut on this one... Enjoy this chapter!
Ernie: The. Insightful. Asian. Orchid
You're not by any chance a mind reader, are you? Yes Talia needed some time to cool off after that confrontation. As for punching something... why don't you read on and see?
Ernie: Frisbee400
If Draco keeps this going, he just might get his sorry butt kicked!
As for Harry's reaction, I'd like to think that he was struck dumb with rage after the pet dog comment. All he saw where big red letters flashing "KILL! KILL! KILL!" in front of him, and that's exactly what he tried to do to Draco. It was the Gryffindor beater, Jonathan and Ginny that stopped him, not Hermione. After Harry's Great Quidditch Ban in fifth year by Umbridge, the entire team is aware of Harry's temper and the negative consequences it might bring and they try and stop him from doing anything that would repeat that year's events. Ginny was definitely tempted to let Harry go, but common sense ruled out. And I happen to think that Hermione would've done the same. In OotP on the train, when Draco mentioned a dog, Hermione had shut the compartment's door more or less in his face to avoid a fight. When Talia attacked Draco, people were shocked. We know what she's capable, but the Hogwarts students, other than Wyatt and Draco, had never seen her so much as raise her voice. All they could do was watch.
Ernie: Thank. You. Winter. Blaze.
As you see, I finally got around to writing more. Enjoy it!
Ernie: Thank. You. Colorfree.
A new reader, I presume? Reviewer at least? I'm glad you're enjoying. I understand how using too many points of view in one chapter might be too confusing, but the truth is, I don't see what I'm doing as examining different points of view. I like to think that the story is being told by a capricious narrator, with the ability to pop in and out of characters' heads at will, to check on their thoughts at any point during the story. I hope that's a little less confusing. I hate not being able to see what every character thinks at every part of the unfolding plot. It's why my writing goes so slow in the first place. You will keep reading anyway, won't you? Thank you for taking the time to read so far and to review. I hope you enjoy the coming chapters just as much.
Ernie: Thank. You. Bob-the-Bear.
Ah, what would I do without the official Talia chronicles cheerleader? Any applications to join the squad kindly send them here. I and head cheerleader, Bob-the-bear will consider them and get back to you. And just for the record, I don't think you need co-ordination lessons, cheerleading lessons, dancing lessons, or making-up-lyrics lessons. You're perfect just the way you are. Loved the song!
Ernie: Songwithoutworz
Thanks for staying up to read the previous chapter. Hope you're getting more sleep now. Things are definitely heating up. Enjoy this next chapter.
Ernie: Reigning. Devil.
Love the name! I hope you don't mind waiting so long. Here's the next instalment...
Ernie: Thank. You. Devlin. Rose.
Hehe. I'm so glad you like the previous chapter so much! I live for reactions like yours. This story's definitely and AU (I mean, come on, I'm using original characters!) but I have incorporated quite a few elements from JKR's books the way that I perceive them. I'm guessing with a lot of the HP stuff, but I like to think that I'm not too much of the mark. It's certainly satisfying to know that someone else appreciates the effort that goes into coming up with rational, believable explanations for the changes in cannon characters. Thank you. And as for Draco, Talia and who she tells about her past... Wouldn't you like to know...
Ernie: Mixer
I look forward to you reviews as much as I look forward to the 'caramel barrel' in a Cadbury's roses selection box! And Ernie appreciates your comments just as much I assure you.
Ernie: Absolutely. Us. Personal. Assistants. Are. So. Frequently. Forgotten. But. You. Make. Up. For. That.
See? Having conferred with my personal assistant, we'd like to inform you that we dedicate this absolute monster of a chapter to you, for your wonderful words. I hope you enjoy it!
Ernie: The. Truly. Charming. Charming. Star.
Christmas was lovely. I hope yours was too? Thank you for saying how much you enjoyed the previous chapter. Hope you like this one just as much!
Ernie: Charmed148
Life getting in the way? Tell me about it!
Was the word you were looking for, tension? Did you mean to say that the last chapter was filled with tension? Because that's what I was going for, and hopefully, it worked. Even before the fight with Draco, I wanted all my readers to feel the tension behind the magical school's day-to-day activities. Harry's generation should be having fun, falling in love, playing quidditch, doing their homework, and enjoying the last vestiges of their childhood before they're dumped in the grown-up world. But the truth is, even though they all go through the motions - they still play quidditch, do their homework and fall in love - they're all aware of this underlying tension and the menacing shadow of the on-going war that hangs over them all the time. Everything they do feels sharper somehow; both more important and less important, than ever before. Wyatt and Talia, as newcomers, can perhaps feel this the most. Most students at Hogwarts try to get through every day not thinking, or at least talking about it. But people like Draco, only need to use words like "mudblood" to bring it all rushing back. It's a very volatile situation.
Ernie: And. Finaly. DD2.
I wouldn't dream of ending it here! There's a lot more to come before you hear that this story is finished. Keep reading and you'll see for yourself!
I'd just like to thank Nightcrawler once more, for the fantastic work he's done on this chapter. I would have delete the entire last part of this chapter if it were for him. He convinced me that it was good enough to stay.
Don't forget to review! And now – finally, I hear you groan – on with the story!
Chapter 19: Cards On The Table
Snape walked the dungeon corridors in his usual brisk, no-nonsense pace that allowed for his robes to billow dramatically around him. He would've kept on walking if he hadn't heard the clang of metal on metal coming out from his own private, training room.
Not many people knew of this level of the dungeons and even less ever came here. There was an evil, unrecognisable, something, in the air, that frightened most people away. This is where Professor Snape did many of his own highly advanced experiments on potions. Some were for Voldemort, some for the Order, and some were part of his own personal research. There were many rooms, some of which he put to use, most of which he did not. One of these rooms he had turned into a personal training room.
As Talia and Wyatt had discovered during the summer, Severus was very much in shape. He had to be, what with being a double agent to Voldemort for the Order, though of course, they didn't know that. Snape had grown up in a rather unpleasant household. His entire family were well known supporters of the black arts, and physical violence was often used to discipline him. Learning how to defend himself had been a matter of survival. In school he had often gotten in fights, more often than not, with the infamous Marauders. But his real training in a number of fighting techniques and styles, had of course, come from Lord Voldemort, who had prided in him one of his most valuable assassins, when Snape was still loyal to him. Frequent sparring sharpened his skills, but also offered an avenue of escape when his murderous rage got the better of him, when life as a death eater, a spy, or even a teacher, got too much.
Judging Talia and Wyatt worthy of this very personal room, his sanctum when his mind and heart were in turmoil, he had revealed it to them during the summer and given them permission to use it whenever they liked.
The room had been a gift more to Talia than Wyatt. Snape had recognised Talia's spirit as very similar to his own. He recognised the need for physical release when things didn't go her way, because the same need could be found in him. The three of them, along with one other person - Snape reminded himself - were the only people who ever used this room.
Which is why he was surprised to hear it obviously being used at this time of day. He was well aware that Wyatt and Talia did most of their combat training first thing in the morning, while he and that other person, tended to use the room in. And so, he resolved to investigate. Severus Snape walked softly and quietly to the room, opened the door and snuck inside.
..oo00oo..
Talia toyed cruelly with her opponent weaving her sword in and out in complicated manoeuvres. She blocked easily the magic statue's own advances. The metal of her sword chipped often at the stone of his body and she hardly seemed out of breath as she rolled away from his own lethal blade. An intricate and impressively inventive web of swear words that would've made a sailor blush, left her lips in a scary, seemingly never-ending, torrent.
Snape raised an eyebrow in silent question. Whoever had riled up the brunette, must have done something really bad to get her this angry!
"For Morgana's sake, give me a damned challenge!" shouted Talia, and her words echoed in the large room. Two more of the armed statues that lined up the walls, lifted their swords and advanced menacingly towards her.
The fight intensified, and Snape watched fascinated as the small girl fought three opponents that were, each, at least twice her size, at the same time. She was a blur of motion between them. She blocked and parried, and twisted and turned. She stabbed and slashed, and ducked and weaved. Snape's eyes widened in admiration. Severus Snape wasn't known for his capacity to feel pity, but he was suddenly very sorry for whoever it was that had angered the girl...
She fought for a long time and Severus remained standing throughout the whole thing, casually leaning against the door on one side of the room, silently observing.
"Enough!" she finally said, panting heavily.
The three statues, bits and pieces now missing from their bodies and armour, stood back. They bowed to her and she bowed back, before they slid noisily back into their positions against the wall.
Talia bent down to pick up the towel she had dropped there earlier. Only her heavy breathing could now be heard bouncing off the walls of the vast training room. He pushed off the wall and walked to meet her in the centre of the large room.
"That was very impressive," Severus finally chose to comment.
She turned in a lightning fast movement bringing her sword round with her and Snape had to force himself not to swallow in an instinctive gesture of sudden fear. Her blade was pressed right up against the sensitive skin of his throat and swallowing could've proven to be lethal.
"Professor?" Talia said, looking up, startled by the interruption. She lowered her sword immediately. She seemed embarrassed to be caught like this. "I didn't see you there. Have you been here long?"
"Long enough," he drawled in an attempt to take back some of his dignity.
"You always seem to catch me at my worst," she said wryly.
"I wouldn't say that."
She shot a glance to him to see if he was angry with her. He was not. Her stance relaxed, and she shrugged. She turned her back on him and bent down to snatch a cloth off the floor in one graceful movement. She followed it by sitting down comfortably on the dojo-like mattresses that covered the training room floor. Then, paying the Potions Master no more mind, she lovingly started to wipe down her sword, seemingly focusing all of her attention in that one task. Snape watched interestedly, noting the long, loving strokes she used, to make her sword glimmer and shine.
Curiosity burned in him, yet he paused, unsure if he had any right to continue with what he was about to ask. He went ahead anyway. "I've refrained from asking you before, Turner, but where did you learn how to fight like that?"
Talia stopped her work, but said nothing at first, her eyes still focused on the lethal blade in her hands. With infinite slowness she lifted those big, brown eyes to meet his obsidian ones. She narrowed them calculatingly, inspecting him in a seemingly new light. She observed the Professor carefully for a long time and for the first time in ages, Severus Snape felt the uncharacteristic desire to fidget.
"Can I trust you, Professor?" she asked softly.
Severus considered the question carefully. He knew she was talking about more than what he had just asked her. All summer long he had tried to discover the mystery that surrounded the two cousins. He had asked Dumbledore repeatedly about them, but the headmaster had changed the subject every time, with his blue eyes twinkling like some sort of beacon on his kind face. When Severus refused to be swayed, the old man had simply refused to answer. To say that he was curious was an understatement. But now that he was finally offered the opportunity to learn the truth, from the horse's mouth, so to speak, he couldn't help the sudden sense of apprehension that overwhelmed him. He sensed too, the dilemma of the young woman before him. Like him, she was not quick to trust and if he ever betrayed the trust she was offering him, he would never be able to gain it back.
"Honestly? I don't know," he admitted. "Perhaps I'm not the best candidate for you to confide in," he said, and his deep voice reverberated with sincerity, "but whatever your story is, I promise not to judge you, and I'll keep what you tell me to myself. Unless I have serious reasons to believe that others need to know," he added seriously.
Slowly a small smile appeared on her lips and she seemed pleased. He found he could suddenly breathe a little easier, though his outer appearance had betrayed none of his tension to begin with.
"If I tell you my story, Professor, will you tell me yours?"
He was startled, though he refused to show it.
"What makes you think I have a story to tell? I'm a simple Potions Master," he claimed, as nonchalantly as he could.
Talia snorted.
"Simple Potions Master my ass!" she said crudely. "You're as much a simple Potions Master, as I'm a simple student and we both know it! There is darkness in your past, Professor, I can feel it."
He raised an eyebrow. The cheek of the wench! Snape sighed in resignation. It was only fair, he decided.
"Alright," he agreed. "But you go first."
She sat on one of the large, dark purple cushions that adorned the room.
"Make yourself comfortable, Professor. This might take a while."
Snape's eyebrow lifted, but he walked to where she sat and sat across from her without complain.
"What do you know of the Charmed Ones, Professor?"
If her question took him by surprise, once again he didn't show it. Snape answered carefully.
"Three mythical, prophesised sister witches. Considered by many to be the strongest witches in the world. As far as I know, it's nothing but a story, a bunch of old predictions and premonitions."
Talia smiled quizzically.
"Not quite as mythical as you might think." She took a big breath. "My mother's a Charmed One," she said. "She, Wyatt's mother, and our other aunt, make up the Charmed Ones' sisterhood. Together, they really are the three strongest witches in the world."
Neither said anything for a while, then Snape whistled appreciatively, something that Talia had done herself, during one of his lessons.
"That would explain why yourself and Mr. Halliwell are so powerful."
Talia said nothing, but she threw him a half-smile.
"There's more, Professor. As you probably know, most Wiccans are half-bloods, largely because Wiccan witches live in the muggle world, but Wyatt and I are actually both purebloods; in the most-widely-used wizarding sense of the word at least."
Snape's eyebrows furrowed in thought.
"What do you mean?"
"What would you say is the most common interpretation of the term "pure-blooded", Professor?"
"That both of the child's parents are magical," Snape answered automatically. He frowned. "I think I may understand what you're getting at. Half-veelas are considered purebloods because both parents are magical, but only one parent is a witch or wizard. Half-giants on the other hand, are considered half-bloods because giants are not magical beings," he said thinking of Hagrid. "Are you saying that both you and Mr. Halliwell were fathered by some sort of magical being?"
Talia nodded.
"You could say that. Do you know what Whitelighters are, Professor?"
Snape did.
"Guardian angels for witches and wizards. Wiccan witches usually have more interaction with them, but we wizards, even those of us that do have them, never get to know ours."
Talia nodded again.
"Wyatt's father used to be a whitelighter."
Snape raised an eyebrow, half in surprise and half in question.
"Used to be?"
"He was 'promoted' to Elder."
Had Professor Snape been drinking or eating at the moment, he would have choked. His eyes bulged and his mouth opened in a silent 'o'.
"That's... very impressive."
Talia seemed amused.
"I didn't even know that whitelighters could...have children. Aren't they supposed to be...of the spirit world?" Snape asked more tactfully than he was known to.
Talia winced.
"Not quite. Whitelighters are just as solid as you or I. Trust me on this. Uncle Leo has been married to Aunt Piper for years."
Her eyes bore in his, deadly serious.
"I'm only telling you this, because I know Wyatt wouldn't mind. We talked about telling the Professors all about us this summer. Professor Dumbledore didn't think it was a good idea, but it's our secret to tell. Wyatt's little secret is hardly unfavourable and, the truth is...we wouldn't have had to hide quite so much, if Wyatt's lineage was our biggest secret."
Her eyes were sad; for once, unguarded, when with him. He could see just how much telling him was costing her. He didn't stop her though. She herself implied that there was more to come.
"Wyatt's very, very powerful, but he's your classical good guy. He and the rest of his family would give everything they have, to protect anyone who's in trouble.
"That's what the Charmed Ones do you know, protect and help innocents, people who can't help themselves: muggles, other witches, wizards... It's no wonder the hat placed him in Gryffindor!"
Talia paused and drank a little from the water bottle she had brought with her.
Severus' mind worked at lightning speed. Talia's words echoed in his head. 'protect and help innocents...' The headmaster was trying to protect Potter by bringing in the Charmed Ones' children to Hogwarts! Severus wondered if Talia was aware of that.
"I believe you might be knowledgeable of quite a bit of dark magic, Professor. Am I right?"
Snape looked up, surprised. What did that have to do with anything? He nodded and readied himself for what was to follow. Talia said that Wyatt's lineage wasn't their biggest secret, but what could be bigger than that?
"Then you've heard of the Source of All Evil."
His expression told her all she needed to know.
"Are you aware that approximately seventeen years ago there was a 'readjustment' in the hierarchy of the Underworld?"
Snape nodded again, an uncomfortable feeling uncurling at the pit of his stomach,
"From what I understand, the Source was replaced - as was most of the Evil Council - although I am unaware as to why. Anyone connected even remotely with the Dark Arts felt it."
Talia bit her lip, and Snape was surprised at how vulnerable she looked at that very moment. Gone was the bravado he had grown accustomed to throughout the summer. Gone was the dangerous edge that seemed to always lurk behind her brown eyes.
"Let me tell you a story, Professor," Talia said. She took another sip from her water bottle in an attempt to moisten her suddenly dry lips. She locked eyes with the older man sitting cross-legged across from her.
"There once was a half-demon, half-muggle. He was very powerful; more powerful than most pure-blooded demons. His name was Belthazor. Belthazor rose quickly in the hierarchy of the Underworld, to become one of the old Source's most powerful, most trusted, demons. Until he was given a very special mission, that is. To spy on, and kill the Charmed Ones.
"Belthazor took on his human form, his human name being Cole Turner, and befriended the Charmed Ones in an attempt to get close to them and eventually destroy them. There was one thing however, that Belthazor did not count on. Both his human and demon half, fell deeply and passionately in love with one of the Charmed Ones. So much so, that he refused the Underworld for her sake and tried to become good."
If Snape hadn't been Snape, he would've gasped. He didn't, but his shock was evident nonetheless. He covered it quickly.
"You are the daughter of a Charmed One and a demon?"
Talia hesitated.
"Not quite Professor," she said grimly. "The Charmed Ones vanquished the old Source, but the Source's powers, chose Belthazor to be their new host. Cole and my mother got married, and when she found out his true nature, she tried to refuse her own destiny for the sake of their love and became his Dark Queen. It didn't last of course. It couldn't have. But it was too late, their love produced a child."
Snape gulped.
"You are the Source's daughter?"
Talia nodded.
Snape was shaken up - who wouldn't be? – but for the sake of the girl who sat, watching him intently, he tried to place the cold mask her words had shattered, back on his suddenly too pale – even for him – face. The Princess of the Underworld wasn't fooled of course. He could see it in the way she looked at him. She suddenly seemed much older than the seventeen years she claimed to be. There was something of the tragic queen in her, and her eyes told of things he couldn't possibly imagine. They told of pain and suffering; they seemed to know hatred and death - intimately; to have yielded power most mortals couldn't even conceive. Shivers travelled down his spine.
With a whispered command and a swish of his wand, a bottle of Firewhiskey appeared before them, along with two crystal glasses. Shakily, the Potions Master poured Firewhiskey in the glasses. He took one in his hand and offered Talia the other, not bothering with the fact that she was underage and his student - an indication of just how upset he was. He swallowed the fiery liquid in one gulp, then refilled his glass. Talia sipped from her own, rolling around the liquid in her mouth with her tongue, observing him the entire time.
She gave him a weak smile.
"Are you sure you want to hear the rest?"
There was more?! – he incredulously wanted to ask.Snape nodded.
"I was raised by my father in the Underworld. You'll probably find this hard to believe, but it wasn't as bad as it sounds. They called me the Princess of All Evil."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"I...have extraordinary abilities."
"I bet," Severus managed dryly.
She didn't smile.
"There was use for me in the Underworld. I became my father's number one assassin."
Almost without thinking, Snape took another gulp from his glass. What was the girl trying to do – kill him of shock?
"I killed for the first time when I was six years old."
Snape swallowed the rest of the contents of his glass in one panicked shot.
Talia couldn't help but smile at the usually stern Professor's antics, despite the severity of the situation.
"You have to understand that my father never made me do any of it. He simply asked, and I chose to follow his commands out of my own free will. And I've done some really horrible things in my life," she admitted softly.
"Last year I reached a point I never want to reach again. The last killing was too much for me to take. I had had enough.
"I left the Underworld and searched for my mother. I've lived with the Charmed Ones for a year now," she took a sip from her glass and continued in conversational tones, "They've all been tremendously supportive." She hesitated, "I have to fight the darkness inside me every day, but each day, it gets a little easier. The darkness will never leave me. I was part of the Underworld once, and it will forever be a part of me," she smiled sadly. "But I'm on the side of the Light now, and I help protect innocents." She snorted inelegantly. "Perhaps part of me is hoping that it'll make up for some of the terrible things I've done in the past."
She finally looked at Professor Snape. She'd been avoiding him during that entire little speech. She seemed to anxiously be waiting for his reaction. Her respect for the Potions Master had grown during the summer and his opinion meant a lot to her. But Snape said nothing.
"This is where you're supposed to say something," prompted Talia nervously.
Severus looked at his student, taking in her distraught appearance. Gone was the confident girl that was there minutes before. She had unconsciously curled her body into as small a shape as possible, and her impossibly large eyes looked even bigger than normal on her unusually pale face. She suddenly looked more like an eleven-year-old than a seventeen-year-old, and he distractedly marvelled at her ability to be practically ageless. Snape's heart, something that many doubted to actually exist, went out to her.
He cracked a small smile at her. He wanted to show her that he wasn't angry. He knew instinctively that that was what she was most afraid of – that, and his disgust – and for some reason he couldn't explain, he felt that it was important he reassured her he felt none of those things. And so he smiled. It wasn't a smirk, or a sneer, but a genuine, albeit slight, smile. The rest of the student body would have been shocked!
"I don't intend on blaming you Talia, or holding your past against you," the silky tones of his deep voice stated.
He had used her first name only a few times before, when the two of them were alone, and it warmed her to hear him say it again. She never could get Xander to call her anything other than "Princess Talia", or "my lady", and the man had helped change her diapers when she was a baby for goodness' sake!
It would have startled all her Gryffindor friends, but she had always felt at ease around Professor Snape. The use of her first name showed that he felt the same connection she did. Talia was glad. When she had first met him, she had searched his soul for darkness and she had found plenty, but Talia had also found something else in him. She had seen the man's sense of honour, though he tried to disguise it, and it had reminded her oddly of Xander and her father: her greatest, and only, allies and guardians in the hostile world she had grown up in. Her instincts yelled at her to trust the snarky Potions Master, even if her logic told her not to. He reminded her of the Old World elegant Darkness she had been raised in, where vestiges of a twisted sense of honour survived in classical, sardonic, intelligent villains one could actually respect and admire. Snape would never know just how much his words to her now would mean to her.
"In your defence, I have to say, that you can't help who your parents are. And, even though you say that what you've done in the past was done of your own free will, I have to say that being raised in the Underworld, would hardly give anyone proper moral guidance. You've changed now, and that's what matters. You have to hold on to that. The past is the past and can't be changed. What matters is the present and the future."
He sighed tiredly. Good gods, that sounded familiar! Wasn't that what Albus had told him a few weeks ago when he came back from a Death Eater meeting full of self-doubt and self-loathing?
"The dark side is a very enticing place," he admitted, "and I should know. I've been there too, Talia."
Talia looked up to see him avoiding her eyes. She expected as much.
"It's ironic really, but you and I aren't really that different, in a way.
"Hanging around with Potter, I presume you've heard all about Voldemort..."
Talia nodded.
"I suppose he might pale in comparison to some of the things you've seen, but... he is still the worst our world has to offer; the possible end of wizarding life as we know it. I was still in school when I joined his ranks.
"My family was always one of the most prominent pure-blooded families. Similarly to others like them, they weren't above seeking power in dark magic, and hated anything that they felt polluted their pure-blooded world, yet, strangely enough, they did not hold with Voldemort much. I guess thought that by joining the Dark Lord's ranks, I'd show my father that I was better than him, that I could take my studies of the dark arts at least one step further than he ever did.
"At first, I wasn't very popular in school with my peers. I was hardly the best looking there and it wasn't easy being the clever, bookish one all the time. Add to that the fact that most of the other houses hate Slytherin anyway, and..."
Talia made as if to contradict that idea, but a look from the Professor silenced her. She was properly chastised. She knew he was right.
"In my third year however, things changed. I was approached by a sixth year Slytherin. His name was Lucius Malfoy."
"Draco's father," Talia said.
"Yes. We became friends. Lucius was rich, he was clever, and he was very popular. All of a sudden, and for the very first time, people started noticing me. I became popular – with the Slytherins at least. The Ravenclaws weren't that bad either. No self-respecting Slytherin would ever affiliate themselves with Hufflepuff though, and as for Gryffindor...well, I'm sure you've seen for yourself the enmity between the two houses."
Talia thought back to the scene that had played out on the quidditch field earlier that day. She nodded.
"You have to understand how much that meant to me. I worshipped Lucius. When he and his friends started dabbling in the dark arts, it was only natural that I join them. Black magic was something we'd all been raised around, back home. It was dangerous and exciting to practise it ourselves, away from our parents' supervision. The dark arts came easily to me. It was positively frightening how easily they came to me!" He shuddered. "There's so much power in the dark arts... and to have all that power running in your veins..." he shook his head in remorse, "it was intoxicating!" he said hoarsely and not without a little longing.
Talia nodded. She understood.
"In Lucius' seventh year, my fourth, he was approached by the Dark Lord. I still remember when he came that night and showed me his mark. You know about the mark, right?"
Talia nodded again. Back on the Hogwarts Express, when she and Wyatt had first heard of Voldemort, Harry had mentioned that Voldemort's followers were branded with his mark upon their initiation.
"I was actually jealous!" he said bitterly. "In my seventh year, I was proud to follow in my friends' footsteps."
Severus lifted his sleeve and Talia saw the ugly mark on his skin. She looked up to see that he too was inspecting the mark, and there was self-loathing in his eyes.
"Like you, I became an assassin.
"I killed for the first time when I was seventeen as part of the initiation, and from then on, it just never seemed to end. I had a knack for it. There was so much blood...I minded at first, but not nearly as much as I should've done. I soon grew deaf to the protests of my conscience all together! Don't get me wrong, I never enjoyed the killing and the tortures," Snape took another sip from his glass. "No, I left that to Lucius. I just...became numb, I guess, to the pain, suffering and death I dealt to others."
There was no need for him to explain further. He saw from her eyes that she understood, better than any seventeen-year-old had a right to. The first time was always the hardest. It got easier after that. With every murder, you lost a little bit of your humanity, until one day, you found that you had none left. That's when human life, anyone's but your own, seized to have any importance or value to you. To you, killing became routine, almost like doing your everyday chores. It was part of what you did, and soon, if you weren't careful, it would be part of who you were. No one could ever pull back after they reached that stage.
Talia's throat felt dry. She downed the alcohol in her glass. Yes, she understood, only too well.
"What made you turn?" she asked softly.
He smirked, a hint of the old Snape she'd known, finally shining through.
"What makes you think I turned?" he drawled.
"You do," she said confidently, and her eyes were as soft as her voice was.
There was a small pause. He was stunned by her certainty.
"Well, you're right," said Severus, a little awkward with how kind she was with him when listening to all of this. Part of him had expected her to recoil away from him in horror, but then again... Considering who she was, and what she herself had just confided in him, it was only logical that she would understand.
"There was a girl; a half-blood. I was nineteen at the time, she was sixteen. I remembered her vaguely from school. A damned Gryffindor! They brought her to Voldemort. Apparently, she had something they wanted. Her father was an auror and she knew something about Dumbledore's plans against Voldemort. They tortured her; raped her over and over again...
"Normally I'd be ordered to take part. Killing wasn't the only thing I was good at, you see. I was a damned good interrogator too. But Voldemort didn't give her to me this time. She wasn't my responsibility. And so I watched her case," he sneered in a grimace of disgust, "from afar. "None of us thought she would last very long, but the stubborn wench did. I watched her, her body bruised and torn and burnt - blood oozing out of every wound – spit in her captors' faces." He scowled. "It was the bravest and stupidest thing I've ever seen anyone do! The stupid girl never gave them what they wanted to know and they kept her for weeks on end. They thought she was fun!" he spat out bitterly.
"I'd seen others treated the same way in Voldemort's dungeons. I don't know what made her different, but she got to me somehow. She had these big, brown eyes and masses and masses of ridiculously long brown hair. She looked a bit like Miss Granger I guess. We never spoke, but I was often forced to watch while Lucius and my other "friends" tortured her. Towards the end, she didn't even have the strength to scream anymore. She used to look at me when they... did things to her. I don't know why. I'll never know why. Maybe she was hoping I'd help her. I never did of course. They would've killed us both before I'd even thought to try. Her eyes still haunt my dreams sometimes."
The young girl placed a comforting hand on her Professor's arm as he took yet another sip from his glass.
"The day they finally killed her, I went to Dumbledore. I gave myself up thinking they'd just throw me in Azkaban and forget about me, but the crafty old bastard asked me to spy for him instead. A year later, Voldemort attacked the Potters and I'm sure you know what happened then."
Talia nodded and he downed the rest of his drink. She refilled both their glasses and they drank in silence. They stayed like that for a while; silent; both sipping alcohol from their refilled glasses.
"Professor, I have to know, where do you stand, now, with Voldemort back?" Talia suddenly asked.
He looked at her. He had left that little detail out on purpose, but she was perceptive. This was dangerous territory she was heading in. He hesitated.
"Hey, I keep your secret, you keep mine," she said softly.
He took one look at her, remembered everything she'd confessed to him earlier. Damn Albus and his little machinations! This was between him and Talia. Voldemort and Dumbledore had each claimed part of him for their own so that Snape hardly felt in control of his own self anymore! Well this would be his decision to make and his alone, he forcefully and on an impulse decided. He looked into Talia's shining eyes and made up his mind. She might have been the Source's daughter, but his instincts screamed at him to trust her and for once, he would let his cold, underused, heart make the decision for him. He would let his fate rest with her. He gave her a curt nod.
"I still spy for Dumbledore."
She smiled grimly.
"I don't intend on blaming you, Professor, or holding your past against you." Her eyes burned holes in his with their intensity. He lowered them to look at the floor, still finding it as difficult to accept forgiveness as he did the night he fist came to see Albus. But she relentlessly continued. "A very wise man once told me that the past is the past and can't be changed. What matters is the present and the future," she said gravely, repeating his own words to him.
Snape looked back up in surprise.
She smirked a little too smugly for his taste.
"Come, Professor, let's get out of here. The floor is uncomfortable and there's still plenty of Firewhiskey in this bottle."
She picked up the bottle and her glass off the floor and offered a hand to pull him up. He took her proffered hand and rose to his feet, graceful despite his age and their prolonged position on the floor.
"Where are we going?" he asked still half dazedly at all that had been said between them.
"To your rooms, Professor," she stated, as if it were obvious.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
Her lips curled in a mischievous smile worthy of those damned Weasley twins.
"Neither of us is going to get any sleep tonight and I'm not letting you finish off this bottle on your own. The floor is uncomfortable," she repeated, "and I can't even imagine the Gryffindors' reactions if I took you back to the Gryffindor common room with a bottle of Firewhiskey in tow! Don't worry Professor," she continued relentlessly, "I promise you, your virtue is safe from me."
His lips twitched, but that would've been too much smiling in the space of an hour for the cold-hearted the Head of Slytherin. He turned it into a smirk instead.
"Don't be cheeky, Miss Turner."
Walking side by side, Severus and his student made their way out of the training room. He opened the door for her.
"Have I ever told you Professor, that you remind me of one of my father's friends?" she asked grinning. "His name's Xander. I've always called him Uncle Xander. Maybe I should call you Uncle Sev?"
"Don't push your luck, Turner!" he growled half-heartedly.
..oo00oo..
Talia was actually whistling as she walked back to the Gryffindor common room!
She had just spent a delightful evening with Professor Snape. She had found him to be a very intelligent man, and she had found herself appreciating his rather caustic wit. It was the books on Shakespeare that had clinched it, she decided. Who knew that Snape, of all people, would be so well versed in muggle literature!
"Talia! Where the hell have you been? We've been worried sick about you?" called Ron, the moment Talia walked into the Gryffindor common room.
She was suddenly surrounded by her well-meaning friends and bombarded with questions.
"Shh! Quieten down, will you? You'll wake everyone up! What are you doing up so late anyway?"
"Our point exactly Talia," said Harry, "it's past curfew!" He seemed upset.
"Tal," Wyatt said kindly, "we were worried about you! You've been gone for hours and we didn't know where you were. You missed dinner."
Talia felt a little guilty for causing so many people to worry over her.
"I'm sorry guys. I didn't mean to be gone that long. I just...well, after the thing with Draco...I kind of needed to cool off before coming back, you know?"
Her friends led her to a large couch and crowded around her.
"Is that alcohol I smell on you?" asked Hermione in alarm.
"Where have you been all this time?" Ron demanded.
"With a friend," answered Talia vaguely.
"Who?" pressed Ginny.
"You don't know them."
"Talia," growled Harry warningly, "we know you were in Snape's rooms."
Ron visibly shuddered.
At a loss of what to do at Talia's disappearance, her friends had checked the Marauders' map and were shocked at seeing Talia's presence not only in the dungeons, but in Snape's private quarters no less! Worst case scenarios passed through their minds instantly and they had been arguing whether they should go after her, or wait for her in the common room, when she had finally appeared.
Talia looked at Wyatt questioningly, but he just shrugged. Talia frowned.
"How do you know?" she asked, scowling.
"What were you doing there, Talia?" Harry demanded, unsure if he wanted to hear her answer.
Talia sighed.
"Turns out he's an old friend of my father's," she said, making eye contact with Wyatt once again. She watched him startle at her words, but no one else noticed. Everyone's attention was on her. "I ran into him when I was still angry with Draco, and he asked me what was wrong. We talked. And, since we both missed dinner, we went back to his rooms and he had the house elves bring us some food. We spent the entire evening just... talking. About literature mostly. That's all! He was very nice about it and there's really nothing to be upset about!" she defended herself and her favourite Professor as sincerely as she could.
It was more or less true. They had spent the evening talking. But she left out the Firewhiskey. And the brandy. That lovely Chablis, and that really excellent cognac afterwards. She didn't want Snape getting into trouble for supplying a minor with alcohol!
"Do you really expect us to believe that Snape was actually considerate, Talia?" asked a visibly doubting Harry.
"And even so, that still doesn't explain why you smell like alcohol, Talia!" Hermione scowled disapprovingly.
Inwardly, Talia cursed her friend's perceptiveness.
"I had one glass of wine with dinner!" she protested, now lying through her teeth. "And I spilt some on my robes, that's all!"
Hermione peered suspiciously at Talia's black school robe, but it would have been impossible to see if she was telling the truth.
"Well, why didn't you tell us that in the first place, Tal?" asked Wyatt tiredly.
He was used to his cousin's antics, but he had had to suffer everyone else's worrying and arguing for the past few hours. Wyatt was obviously not troubled that Talia had been in Snape's private rooms or that she had been drinking. He'd never hope to control that wild part of her, especially when she was upset. The only part of her story that worried him, was her implication that Snape was a dark wizard, but they couldn't talk about that until Harry and the others had left.
"You guys don't like Snape much," Talia said, turning to face Harry. "Personally I don't think he's that bad. But I didn't tell you about him right away, because I didn't want you nagging me about it," she glared at them pointedly.
She tried to ignore Ron's retching noises at her comment about Snape not being that bad, but Talia's temper started rising. She tried not to take offence at this impromptu interrogation, she really did. She tried to tell herself that her friends were only doing it out of concern, but... what right did they have to question her every action and word the way they just had?! Talia's eyebrows drew together like the gathering clouds of a coming storm. A flicker of flames ignited behind her brown eyes and the air around her seemed to suddenly crackle with her anger's energy.
Wyatt bit his lip worriedly. Please don't let his cousin lose her fragile control over her volatile temper now...!
"Look, I'm trying to be understanding here," Talia growled, mostly at Ron who's fake retching gestures at the very mention of Snape had drawn her anger in the first place, "and I'm sorry if by hanging around with one of our Professors, I've insulted your delicate Gryffindor pride, but surely who I talk with and hang around with is my decision and mine alone?" she finished softly and with a menacing quality to her voice that had everyone chilled.
The previously dying fire in the common room fireplace seemed to take new life and rise so high that the flames licked all the way to the very edge of the chimney. Luckily, no one but Wyatt noticed. He placed a hand on Talia's shoulder.
"We didn't mean anything by it, Tal," he said soothingly. "We were just worried about you, and the others just don't trust Snape. Please don't take offence." Perhaps it had something to do with Wyatt's whitelighter half, but the gesture and soft-spoken words worked. Talia calmed down as suddenly as she had become angry. She seemed slightly embarrassed by her lack of control,
The others wisely seemed to sense that the topic was closed for discussion. As one, they realised that pissing off Talia yet again today, was not a good idea, so they decided, reluctantly, to change the subject. The trio, with a joint understanding that only long and close friendship could produce, decided that they'd get back to the Snape issue at some later date.
"Talia, what exactly happened between you and Malfoy this summer?" asked Hermione gently, as if she was some live bomb waiting to go off.
Talia was surprised. She was hoping they'd forgotten about that. She chewed her lip thoughtfully, trying to come up with a story they'd believe.
"Well, what did Wyatt tell you?" she asked carefully, looking at her cousin for support.
"That Malfoy showed up with his father during one of your extra lessons in the summer, and that you discovered that his father was an old friend of the family," answered Ginny helpfully. "Then you two went out for the evening together, and didn't come back 'till early the next morning."
Talia glared at Wyatt. He smiled back at her sheepishly.
"Snape? The Malfoys? You certainly seem to have a lot of family connections around here Talia, for an American witch raised in the Muggle world," observed Harry, scowling at her thoughtfully. "Ow!"
"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny said sweetly. "Was that your foot? I didn't see it there."
Talia shrugged, trying as hard as she could not to take offence again.
"Our mothers are from an old pure-blooded line," she lied, once again, looking at Wyatt for confirmation. Luckily, he picked it up and nodded. "You know how the pure-blood magical society is. They all know each other."
Hermione frowned thoughtfully. Wyatt and Talia claimed that they were half-bloods. Yet Talia claimed that Snape was an old friend of her father's! Wasn't her father a muggle?"
Talia noticed the question in Hermione's eyes.
"This isn't the time, nor the place, to talk about our family, or its history. I promise, one day we'll tell you, but...not now," Talia said tiredly.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny looked at her with mistrust. Her friends of the past couple of weeks were suddenly doubtful of her. And it hurt, damn it! She silently cursed herself for leaving herself open to that eventuality. For Morgana's sake! She'd only known them for a few weeks!
It was Wyatt that came to her rescue.
"We're not the only ones with secrets," he said quietly. "You've got them too, I can tell. But neither Talia nor I have ever asked you what they are. We trust that if you think we need to know, you'll tell us. Our family history doesn't concern you right now," he said gently, "and that should be enough. Please, all we're asking is that you give us the same benefit of the doubt."
By the time Wyatt was finished, Harry, Hermione and Ginny looked properly ashamed. The room was silent for a while. Talia looked at her cousin in admiration. She couldn't possibly have done what he did, even if she'd used the same words. It definitely had something to do with him being half-whitelighter, she decided. Idly she wondered if he was developing a new power. They should remember to tell Leo about it nest time they saw him.
"It doesn't sound like what happened between you and Malfoy in the summer had anything to do with your family history. Can you can tell us about that?" Hermione questioned, trying to make it seem that Talia's reluctance to be straightforward with them, had never happened. She tried to get the conversation moving again.
Talia smiled at her, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"We went out for a few drinks in Hogsmeade."
"Malfoy mentioned something about the Hogs' Head this afternoon," said Harry tentatively.
He cursed himself for his earlier aggressiveness. He should have known better. If anyone knew anything about secrets, it was him. Hadn't he carried the burden of the Prophesy on his shoulders for an entire year, before sharing it with his friends? His mind flew to a dream he had, during the summer. Maybe Talia's family history was why Voldemort was interested in her. Either way, antagonising the brunette would hardly put him in a position to protect her. And Harry wanted to protect her. Voldemort had already claimed too many people. Harry wouldn't let him have her too.
"The Hogs' Head?! Talia you didn't!" said Hermione, shocked into forgetting completely Talia's earlier little slip up.
"Did that ferret take you there?" Ron asked, anger evident in his voice. "That's no place for a lady!"
She couldn't help it! It was such a typically Ron thing to say and do! Talia flashed him a dashing smile.
"Why thank you Ron!"
Predictably, he blushed.
"But that's not all, is it?" prodded Hermione.
Talia momentarily cursed her friend's intelligence and perceptiveness.
"We got drunk. Very drunk actually. We got into a fight with some...people, we kicked ass, and we flew back to Hogwarts," she rushed, hoping no one would notice.
"You got drunk?" Ron asked with an admiring grin.
"You got into a fight?" screeched Hermione.
Ginny covered Hermione's mouth with her hand, trying to stop her from waking up the whole of Gryffindor.
"You flew back to Hogwarts drunk?" reprimanded Wyatt. "Tal!"
"Well that would explain it," said Harry forcing himself to relax and take part in the conversation. "Malfoy thinks of us Gryffindors as nothing but a bunch of goody-goodies. Just because he's seen a little of the wild Talia," he said smiling at her fondly, "he's dubbed you a Slytherin."
Ron frowned.
"But Tal, you did have to threaten the Sorting Hat to put you into Gryffindor."
Harry came to the rescue.
"The Hat nearly put me in Slytherin too, Ron."
"Really?" his head whipped round so quickly, Wyatt was momentarily afraid he'd hurt his neck.
"And me," confessed Hermione.
People turned to look at her.
Hermione rolled her eyes at them.
"Slytherins are ambitious. I'm ambitious," she said slowly so they would understand.
Ron turned to his little sister as if he were expecting her to confess to a similar sin.
"Don't look at me Ron! All the Hat told me was 'Another Weasley?' and then sorted me into Gryffindor."
He sighed in relief.
No one bothered to ask Wyatt. The Hat hadn't even touched his head, before sorting him into Gryffindor.
"The hat considers different houses for each person, Ron," Hermione said. "That's its job. It's where one eventually chooses to end up, whether consciously or unconsciously, that matters."
"And it is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities," Harry said softly, thinking back to when he first heard those words.
The others turned to look at him with admiration.
"Wow, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, "that's deep mate!"
Harry blushed.
"Dumbledore said that to me once."
Talia yawned.
"I'm sorry guys, but I'm exhausted."
She had claimed hours ago that she wouldn't be sleeping tonight, but the Firewhiskey was finally doing its job.
Talia's yawn spread to the people around her. Soon they were all yawning.
"Let's break it up for tonight," suggested Wyatt, getting up from the floor where he had been sitting on.
"Yeah, see you girls tomorrow," Harry said, getting off the large, red, couch.
Ron waved absentmindedly as he followed his friend up to the boys' dormitories. He said something that sounded very much like 'see you tomorrow'.
Of course, it may have been 'life's sorrow'.
But, seeing that it was Ron who said it, it was probably 'see you tomorrow' after all, Talia tiredly decided. She grabbed Wyatt's arm before he managed to follow Ron and Harry up the boys' staircase.
"We need to talk. Tomorrow at early morning practise. Might even need to call Uncle Leo in on this," she hissed quickly.
Solemnly he nodded and they finally both followed the rest of them up to bed.
A/N: The next chapter is dedicated to any readers who might be able to tell me where I got this chapter's title from.