Disclaimer.
J.K Rowling went out one day so I took her characters out to play.
We ran around, they laughed with glee,
All this fun and she works for free!
Dumbledore looked at the door Phaelan had just exited through. He was not entirely surprised at her reaction but he had hoped he would have had a better chance to talk to her. Unfortunately, the congenitally foot-in-mouth disease prone Potions Master, had wedged his hammer blow comments between anything that might have mitigated the shock brought on by the revelation of her roots.
Shaking his head, Dumbledore looked at Snape, "You've really outdone yourself this time, old boy. Could you possibly have been any more callous?" he asked sarcastically.
"What do you mean?" Snape asked innocently, pretending to not understand what Albus meant.
"What do I mean?" the old man asked angrily, "If I were younger, I would have challenged you to a duel for the insult to her character. I still might, for I am still her protector."
He stood up and walked around to confront the wizard, still seated in front of the desk. "You, sir, are an idiot; a callous, selfish and bigoted fool. How long ago was it you were spouting your heartfelt and steadfast love for the girl?" Dumbledore gestured at his head with his index finger. "Think, man, when did you offer courtship? Before or after the charm had been activated. It seemed to me you were so adamant about maintaining a proper demeanour in your relationship, you did not touch her before offering your oath of intention."
Snape realized everything Dumbledore said was true. He had wanted her long before their first time. He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees.
"I believe you were less than sensitive to her feelings when you offered to make her a lab specimen for all and sundry to study." Snape countered, "I'm sure we could have charged fees, to subject matter experts, wanting to attend an open forum on the forms and uses of a Praeservio in a controlled environment," he said, his voice rising in anger to a shout at the end. Snape looked at the Headmaster. "It could have been your next fund raising project," he snapped.
Severus stood and walked to his accustomed place beside the window. He looked into the distance where the snow covered peaks were lit by the moonlight. Was it only days ago they'd spent the night there, content and happy?
After Snape's comment, Dumbledore had the grace to look embarrassed. It had been a thoughtless comment after all.
"I fear we've both treated our dear Phaelan shabbily." Dumbledore closed his eyes and offered a suggestion, "Perhaps Madam Curador should speak with her?"
Severus shrugged to cover his somersaulting emotions, "Perhaps she should. I am no expert on the hurt feelings of women."
Dumbledore looked at the man looking through the window into the distance with a blank look upon his face. He recognized the signs of a Severus in turmoil.
"Severus, perhaps a short missive would..."
Severus rounded on him, "Don't presume to interfere in my personal life in this manner any further, old man. I'm sorry I ever let you look at that scroll. Now, I have another thing I must mask from my Dark Master, for if he should discover her power, he would demand it for himself."
Dumbledore sat down; just realizing what Snape had said was too true. More than ever, Phaelan had to be protected.
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Phaelan had wept and then wept some more. Her heart was torn asunder, for the loss of the tender memory of a loving grandmother sharing a gift; for the loss of a man she loved more than she could ever have imagined. Her grief had left her exhausted and she had fallen asleep on the cold floor of the tower.
Nearly Headless Nick watched over the young woman. He had been writing courtly poems in his ghostly head for her and sorely wished there was a way he could share them with her. He floated close to her and noticed her pallor was quite pale for a living woman. He knew she was distressed and had sought her out to offer what comfort he could, being ever the courtly gentleman.
"My Lady Phaelan, you must awake," he called, but she did not stir. "Gentle mistress, the night is cold; you should withdraw to your chambers. Come, I shall escort you," he tried once more. The ghost realized this was not a good sign. Her elf must be summoned.
Nick floated through the castles' stone floors and walls until he reached the kitchens.
"Where is the elf who serves my Lady Phaelan?" he demanded.
Polly appeared before him immediately, "I is her lady's elf, Sir Nicholas," declared the elf proudly.
"You, little one, are shirking your duty. Your lady lies with the vapours upon the floor of yonder tower." He told her imperiously.
"What?" Polly asked, confused at what he said.
Nick sighed a ghostly sigh and pulled from the vocabulary he'd learned of late from the new crop of students.
"Phaelan is out cold in the clock tower and looks like she's freezing, do you understand, you little twit?" he demanded in twentieth century speak.
"Oh, yes sir. Dobby, come help me," she called and the two elves disappeared.
Sir Nick nodded in satisfaction, "There's something to be said about the speech of our modern students," he announced and left for the tower himself.
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Phaelan awoke slowly and became aware of being swaddled in a cocoon of quilts. Her head felt heavy and ached behind her eyes. She tried to push off the covers and sit, only to be pushed back.
"Oh no, not yet, my dear," admonished Poppy Pomfrey. "You've given yourself a nasty chill."
Phaelan frowned then remembered the night before, "How did I get here?" she croaked, her throat feeling like it had been rusted over.
Poppy sat on the side of the bed holding a chalice containing some kind of draught which was steaming. "Polly and Dobby brought you down from the clock tower and then found me. Now, be a good girl and drink this."
Poppy helped Phaelan sit and held the chalice to her lips. The draught was faintly citrus tasting and bitter. Poppy insisted she finish it.
"It'll be two days in bed for you, young lady. No arguments." Poppy stood and walked to the table holding an array of potions and powders.
"The classes.." argued Phaelan, until a phlegm induced cough broke her voice.
"Albus has your syllabus; someone else can cover for you for a few days. Don't worry." Poppy then brought a tray with a bowl of hot soup which she settled on Phaelan's knees.
"Can you manage?' asked the Mediwitch.
Phaelan nodded and took up her spoon. "What time is it?" she asked before taking a sip.
"Just past noon; I'm sure Severus will be up to see you shortly."
Phaelan put her spoon down, "I doubt it."
"Don't be silly, he's been worrying me all morning about you. He made up the draught to clear your chest." Poppy observed the look on Phaelan's face. "Had a lovers quarrel, did you?"
Phaelan glanced up quickly then looked away. The older woman obviously didn't know.
"Something a little more than a quarrel, Poppy," she replied, taking the tray and setting it aside.
Poppy took the tray away. "Now, you listen to me, that man is worried about you. I don't know what happened between you; it's none of my business if you don't want to tell me." Poppy stopped and looked at Phaelan. She was hoping Phaelan would tell her but it was not forth coming. "Well, anyways, Severus is not the type to admit he is wrong, not willingly. He'll come around though, wait and see."
Phaelan sank down into the bed and pulled the covers to her chin. "I don't think so, Poppy; I don't believe he will want me close to him ever again. I can even understand why but it still hurts. It still hurts..." Phaelan's voice faded as she drowsed once more.
Poppy sighed and stroked Phaelan's hair, "I wish I had a draught for a broken heart."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the Gryffindor common room going over notes from Charms for their homework following a meeting of the seventh year Gryffindors. NEWTS were fast approaching and Hermione had become a harridan, whipping everyone into shape with her snap quizzes and sharper tongue.
"I want this years upper sixth to have the highest marks ever as a class. We can do it you know, it just takes a little effort and planning," she had announced at the meeting.
"Hermione, some of us have a life," declared Lavender, whose comment was met with nodding heads around the room.
"I'm going to post this." She held up a large scroll, "It's entirely up to you if you follow it." She pinned it up on the wall using her wand. "Now if you'll notice, I've even allowed time for recreation, meals and slumber." Hermione indicated coloured areas of the schedule she had created.
"How nice, Hermione says we can eat, sleep and snog," said Seamus loudly. Hermione glared at him as the rest of the company laughed.
"I knew not everyone would appreciate the effort I put forth," she snapped, staring pointedly at the Irish wizard, "but in my position as Head Girl, I felt it was my duty."
"That's great Hermione," offered Neville, "just so long's you keep on tutoring us as well."
"I have to study too," she retorted, "but if anyone is really stuck I'll help. So should you all, because everyone here is especially good at something."
Dean guffawed, "I'd rather not have a review on hair and manicure charms thank you." Parvati punched him on the arm.
Hermione ignored him, "It's up to you what you do. I plan to succeed." She walked away and sat at the table with her books.
"Uhm, Hermione, I have to go see Snape," said Ron.
"What for?' she asked, petulantly, "We've just started.
"Yeah, I know but he asked to see me, something about a task he has for me," Ron replied as he gathered his books together and stuffed them in his bag.
"Honestly, Ron, you must tell him about your schedule and work around it, unless it's a detention; is it?" she asked arching an eyebrow.
Ron shook his head, "No. He told me to come to his office and if I don't go then it will be a detention, all right?"
"You'll have to make it up, is all." She sniffed. Hermione hated having her study schedule thrown out.
Ron beat a retreat through the portrait hole and made his way to the dungeon office. He knocked and waited. Snape opened the door and stepped into the hall, warding the door behind him.
"You're barely on time, Weasley. Follow me." Snape led the way further into the dungeons.
"I'm sorry sir, but you don't know how hard it is to get away from Hermione when you are on her list of those to brow beat over study time. It might be easier if you just gave me detention." Ron walked quickly to keep up with the professor.
Snape snorted, "What manner of crime would warrant a detention every Thursday night, Weasley? If you had any talent in potions, we might have gotten away with a special project, however, no one would believe that."
"What can I do sir? I know you want this kept quiet." Ron was now totally lost in the castle.
"We'll call it detention for the next two weeks. That should let you come up with something," said Snape just as he halted before a large tapestry of a Nymph cavorting with a serpent. He muttered something Ron couldn't make out and the tapestry slid aside to reveal a set of double doors.
"This was Salazar Slytherins' personal duelling studio. We have restored it." Snape opened a door and entered. He turned to Ron and said, "Wait here until I come for you."
Ron began pacing, anticipating the reaction of those who he was about to meet. It wasn't pretty in his mind's eye.
The door opened, "Weasley," called Snape quietly. Ron followed him into the corridor beyond the door. When Snape stopped, so did he.
"Your new coach in practical defence and tactics," announced Snape just before stepping to the side.
Ron took one step forward and was stunned at who was waiting. Half of the sixth and seventh year Slytherins, four Ravenclaws whose parents had ties to the Death Eaters, a sixth year Gryffindor everyone hated and two Hufflepuffs. The biggest shock was Malfoy and his cronies.
"So, King Weasley, surprised are you?" Malfoy sneered, his bookend friends giggled on queue.
Snape stepped forward, "Enough, Malfoy, he's here for a purpose, not for your diversion." He turned back to Ron. "Very well Weasley, where do you wish to begin?" He waited.
Ron realized he was expected to speak. "Right, well then, I suppose we should see where everyone stands as to their level of skills." He heard the Slytherins laugh again. His patience was waning. He had to take charge.
"Zabini step forward," ordered Ron in his DA voice. "Attack me," he commanded.
Zabini smiled and looked back at his friends. He turned back quickly with his wand readied. "Furnunculus."
Ron calmly yet swiftly pulled his wand, "Protego, Tarantallegra," The gathered crowd watched as Ron casually deflected Zambini's hex and returned one of his own in the same breath.
"The key to any offence is a good defence and being able to react using your instinct rather than having to think about it. You need to know where your opponent is and where your allies are." In the background, Zabini was dancing a jig around the floor.
"You need to know you can rely on your comrade to back you up and you must be willing to do what must be done." Ron had an attentive audience. "It's not enough to know the curses and hexes. You must know which ones to use at the appropriate time and to be able to cast correctly the first time." The dancing wizard was coming towards Ron who turned and ended the hex. Zabini staggered over to stand by his housemates.
"If you are fighting, there is no second chance or right of appeal. There are only witches and wizards who can cast faster, run faster and are more cunning than you. You must be the best you can at what ever you do." Ron looked at Snape who offered him a nod of encouragement.
"Break into pairs and begin duelling. I need to see your strengths and even more important, I need to see your weaknesses."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Phaelan sat in her office as she did every night now when not working with the DA or the order. She was transcribing her students' marks onto an online spreadsheet. She heard a knock and called, "Come in."
"Phaelan, we never see you in the lounge any more," opened Minerva, "Is it this infernal machine that's stolen your company?" she asked, indicating the computer.
Phaelan smiled, "No, I just feel it might be better not to be around too much."
The older teacher took a seat opposite Phaelan, "You can't hide away, Phaelan, it won't do. You've as much right to move around this castle as the rest of us."
"I can't Minerva, not after…not when they…" Phaelan faded off.
"You listen to me lass. Albus has told me everything that transpired. No, don't give me that look. I must know what is happening in case anything happens to the Headmaster." Minerva sighed and pursed her lips. "The pair of them have all the subtlety of a rampaging Hippogriff. What you were told and how it was presented was unconscionable. I'm hard pressed to decide who was worse."
Phaelan shook her head, "It doesn't really matter, Minerva. Whatever he thought he felt, what ever we had is gone. He barely sees me as human." Phaelan's voice had lowered to a whisper.
"Answer me two questions and ask me none. What have you done with his gifts, not the bonding token; his gifts?"
"I asked Polly to get them out of my sight. I couldn't bear to see them." Phaelan replied.
"Do you still have the token he gave you when he made his oath to you?" asked Minerva sternly.
Phaelan nodded, "I keep thinking I should return it but that is something I should do personally. I can't bring myself to face him alone yet."
Minerva stood, "Fine then, it's high time this entire matter was settled. I'll get those two stubborn blockheads to sort this out. As for you, young lady, I expect you in the common room tomorrow for elevenses." With a straight back, Minerva marched out the door leaving Phaelan confused about what she had planned.
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Severus was seated in front of the fire in the teachers' lounge, reading the morning paper. He had missed breakfast in the Great Hall and was now enjoying coffee and croissants in the quietude of the room. He heard the door open and looked up to see the head of Gryffindor striding towards him.
"Good morning, Minerva. You look quite chipper on this chilly day," he greeted her presence.
"Stick it up your arse, Severus Snape." She stood in front of him with her arms crossed.
He put his paper down, "I think I'm missing something, Minerva. Is there a problem?"
"There is a young woman on staff here who feels she must hide away lest her presence cause offence to present company. I find that unacceptable." She looked down at her former student with the same stare that made students back down in fear.
Snape cleared his throat, "I'm not entirely sure I understand you, Minerva. I can't imagine anyone who would feel that way."
She began shaking her finger at him, "Don't you play the bloody innocent wi' me, Severus. You damn well know, who I'm speaking about. You've hurt her badly and she dinna deserve to be shunned by you."
Severus looked into the fire before speaking, "I didn't intentionally mean to cause Phaelan any pain. Albus' revelations and the possible consequences of our connection were overwhelming at that moment."
"I see; just how long does an overwhelming moment last? She's grieving, Severus. Her heart has been torn. You are the only one who can heal her."
Severus shook his head, "I don't deserve her; not that I ever did. I can't approach her for she will never forgive me."
Severus felt a sudden slap on his left ear, "Ow! That hurt Minerva." He held his hand over the offended ear and cheek.
"Good, ye deserved it, ye pathetic coward. Now, Phaelan will be here at eleven and you will make amends. If you are lucky, she might forgive you." Turning on her heel, the elder teacher left him to his own thoughts.
A few minutes later, Dumbledore entered and took the chair opposite Severus. He sat back with a sigh and look at his Potions Master.
"Minerva's been here, I see." Dumbledore noticed Severus was holding a hand over his ear, rubbing it slightly.
Severus looked over at him "Hmn? Oh, yes she was. How did you know?"
"I was at the receiving end of her temper as well." He replied.
Severus frowned, "She slapped your ear too?"
"No, she pulled my beard, hard. It hurt." The old man sighed, "Minerva never pulls my beard except when she gets excited when we..."
"Spare me the sordid details, old man. I don't need to live your love life vicariously." Snape got up and poured himself more coffee. He was about to return to his seat when he heard the door open. Putting his cup down lest he spill it, he leaned on the sideboard as she entered.
"Phaelan, my dear," began Dumbledore, "we've missed your company these past several days. I trust you've recovered from your bout of the grippe?"
Phaelan looked around and saw no one but herself and the last two people she wanted to see.
"I am quite well, Headmaster. Thank you for your concern. I do apologize for missing my classes." Phaelan kept her tone formal and emotionless.
"Nonsense, Phaelan, you were quite ill, Poppy told me. I did hear our Severus, here, made a fine potion to help you recover."
"Yes, yes he did. I've been quite remiss at not sending my thanks. I shall remedy that as soon as I return to my chambers."
"Phaelan, the man in question is here. Why would you…"
"Please, sir, you know why." Phaelan's tone became hard. "I'm in no mood for banter headmaster. I had thought to meet Minerva here. Perhaps I should just go." She turned to leave.
"Don't." The one word request came from Severus. "I am the one who should go for it is I who is most at fault in this disorder."
Dumbledore stood. "No, neither of you shall leave. I will have my say and go."
He stood and approached Phaelan, "I am an old man, Phaelan. I've seen and experienced many things in my life. I've always prided myself in my ability to retain my excitement and enthusiasm for new things. Many see it as an eccentricity in a man of my age. I believe it is a gift." He came forward and took her hand.
"In my stumbling and admittedly childish way, I made a suggestion to you which I had no right to do. You are a wondrously gifted woman, Phaelan. My world has been enriched by you. If I had never discovered your birthright, you would still be, unto me, a treasure." He looked into her eyes which were threatening tears, "Please try to find in your heart, that measure of compassion, to forgive an old man's foolishness." He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles before leaving her alone with Severus.
Phaelan stood where Dumbledore left her, unsure of what to do. Severus turned and looked at her only to find his heart clench in pain at having hurt her. He took a deep breath to steady his anxiety.
"It appears we are at the mercy of the machinations of our elders once more." He opened.
Phaelan nodded,"Yeah, I guess we are but then, that's how our lives are. They pull the strings and we move according to their wishes. It seems my entire life has been that way."
He walked towards her but stopped a safe distance away, "I am not Dumbledore, I'm not comfortable with the new and untried. Caution is my way of life and, heretofore, I have not found any reason to change my mind on it."
Phaelan glanced in his direction, "I'd not noticed you were adverse to new things, professor. Perhaps it's just new magical creatures that give you pause."
He looked at her, wounded by her suggestion. He also understood where the comment had come from and decided he deserved it. "Had I known letting Albus look at the scroll would have caused such turmoil, I would have given it second thoughts."
"None of us could have guessed at what he was going to find out, I suppose." Phaelan walked over and sat on a chair beside the fire. "Why didn't you come to see me, Severus?"
"I thought you would reject me after what I said," he replied. "Of course, you could have come to see me."
"To be rejected again, to be told I might be a bad influence upon you?" she suggested bitterly.
"No!" He closed his eyes; he was failing miserably. "Phaelan… bugger I'm useless at this."
"For Christ's sake, Severus, once and for all, will you say what you mean in plain English? I can't go on like this." She broke down in tears. "I'd never cried so much in my life before I met you and…I've never been happier than when I was with you." She shook her head in confusion, "What the hell am I to do? I love you and you despise me."
He now looked at his lady in shock. She loved him still. "No, you're wrong, Phaelan." He approached her and knelt before her. "I never despised you. I was afraid of you at first, but, I finally realized, my desire for you started from the first moment I laid eyes on you."
He reached out to touch her cheek. "Do you have any idea of the impact you made when you walked into Albus' office on the day of your interview? This small woman dressed in a Navy uniform possessed of such confidence and self assurance; you awed us all. You lasted under such interrogation…I would have walked away." He looked into her eyes now. "I made my offer and gave you my oath before we ever knew each other intimately. If I were to turn aside now, I would be denying my own judgement. If I were to deny my love for you, I would be a greater fool and liar than Peter Pettigrew ever was."
Phaelan looked at him and saw the raw emotion on his face. He had hurt himself as much as her. He was offering her himself as much as he could. "I would never try to control you, Severus, and I don't think you would ask me to increase your power."
He took her hands and looked again into her eyes. "I know you would never control me that way and I would never risk you in that manner. I love you." He shook his head. "It's just that simple, I love you and you love me. There is no power greater than love."
Phaelan reached out and smoothed his cheek, "You should be careful. You're starting to sound like Dumbledore."
Severus pulled her up to stand with him. "Madam, I will forget you ever said that." He pulled her against him, "Phaelan, I'm so sorry for hurting you. I was thoughtless and cruel but I punished myself as much as anyone. I've not slept a wink since you left. I miss you."
"Me too," she admitted, "I was afraid as well. I realized if you know who were to find out… "
"Exactly so, we must be even more vigilant." Severus leaned forward and kissed her brow.
"Now you're starting to sound like Moody." She smiled as his kisses reached her ear.
"There is only one person I want to sound like, Phaelan." He whispered in her ear.
"Who's that?" she replied, as he kissed his way down her neck.
"I want to sound like the man who makes love to you." He pulled her close and kissed her before repeating his promise.
"Phaelan, will you speak to me as you speak to no other man? Will you see me with eyes open yet closed to any other man? Will you receive my gifts as I honour you? Will you accept me as your protector and courtier? Speak and I will forswear any woman save you and ask nothing if your heart should falter in our courtship. I speak to the elements that they may witness my truth. Speak now Phaelan and give me life I pray thee." He waited for her response.
"Severus, all you ask and more I will give freely. If you will it, no other man will sway me but if another woman should find your favour, I will release you from your oath without consequence or regret. May the elements witness my truth."
As the couple looked into each other's eyes, they didn't notice two elves watching from under a table.
"This means we should unpack the gowns for Miss Phaelan." Decided Polly.
"This means we still must work as bonding elves." Replied Dobby.
"Is this a good thing?" Polly asked,
"We should seek our elder," he answered, and Polly nodded in agreement.