Again, it's taken me ages to update. Sorry. But I'm back now, and here's chapter eleven.It's kinda short, but anyway. Enjoy!
Chapter 11: Phoenix
Pandemonium spread. Potter screamed something unintelligible at him, wand whipping out, Alastor moved in front of him defensively, various Order members moved to one side or the other, Molly ran towards her son, Poppy towards him, Albus called desperately for order, and above it all Granger's high pitched agonised screaming reverberated. Severus hastily drew himself in, calling up the calm of a mind-shield, and reached out towards the one being who could help.
A lilting, floating song flowed out from his lips, unnoticed in the din. But its answer could not be ignored. Flames roared into existence in the fireplace, fierce and golden. Lapping, more like water than flame, they flowed into the room, touching all present. Bathed in that warmth and light, the warring occupants turned to watch in awe as the great phoenix rose from the flames to rise above them, its song coming to bathe them as did the light. Only Hermione did not calm, but her screaming halted.
Shuttered behind his shield, a grey cloak to mask him, Severus watched the others emerge from the golden fog that flooded the room. Spirits answered the firebird's call, and auras came free to glow softly in the pulsing light. Alastor glowed a soft brown, tinged with the red of battle magic. Poppy was lit with a pale moon radience, as close to purity as he had ever seen. Harry shone bright orange, red of battle, yellow courage, shot through with deceptive green. For one moment, Severus let himself simply wonder at the beauty, the glory of spirit that phoenix song showed. Then he withdrew once more, and turned his attention to the wounded girl.
Hermione was sobbing, crying incoherently, in the throes of an agony too deep for even Fawkes' radience to remove. Her aura sputtered, the brilliant blue of intelligence shadowed by grey swathes. Centred low on her torso, a pulsing patch of evil red-purple snaked its tendrils through her, slowly spreading like a virus. A shudder of recognition shook Severus, bringing old fear. He knew that curse, knew its cause. It brought remembered agony to rip through him, but he knew how to heal it. Gods, that she had suffered it ...
Trusting that Fawkes would hold the others enraptured so they couldn't interfere, he moved to her side. The other two sides of the Golden Trio resisted, turning to stop him, but the phoenix fluttered to rest between them, brushing his wings against them to recapture their attention. Severus smiled gratefully at him, remembering when the phoenix had first enspelled him, soothing him to sleep in the Forbidden Forest when he was fourteen so he could be free from his master for just one night. He had never felt such gratitude to any being save Poppy.
As he touched the wounded girl, she shuddered, struggling weakly to get away. Her sobs increased, paired with mumbled pleas. He scooped her up, cradling her shaking form as gently as he could. The curse reached for his aura, drawn as if by an Accio spell to try and attack him. Of course, it would recognise him, its most prolific victim, but as ever his shield repulsed it. It writhed like a living thing, digging into Hermione's body. He had to eradicate it soon. Her resistance was strong to have held out so long, but he wouldn't bet on it lasting much longer.
He knelt, still holding her. It would be difficult. He had only ever attacked this curse when it infected his own body. It was a conscious effort of will to expell it, fueled by mind-magic, and it was painful. And even with it gone, the effects of the assault that seeded it would have to be dealt with. That had never been an issue with him, because his resistance had been established long before he had first encountered that curse. But for this child, it would be devastating.
He cupped her face in his hands, ignoring her heartwrenching pleas for mercy. Gently, he bent over her to rest his forehead against hers, and slipped like liquid into her mind. His shield drapped around both their auras, hiding his from all eyes but hers, and the curse that beseiged them.
Leglimency was a different sensation with each person, each link. He hovered yet on the edges of her mind, looking over the conflicting factions that fought for domination. The curse pulsed viciously, bearing down with increasing force on the worn blue that signified her spirit. She fought back, desperately, lashing out at the tendrils instinctively, but she lacked the co-ordination for a concentrated attack. Around the edges, the golden force of Fawkes' influence fought a rearguard action on the curse, but the nebulous peace phoenix aura offered couldn't fight such concentraed malevolence. Hermione was slowly losing the battle.
It was time he joined the fight. They hadn't noticed his presence yet, but that would change. His first task was to separate the curse from her dimming spirit. Then he could fight it himself, the way he had when it was he it had attacked.
He flowed deeper, a silver shadow, and touched her flagging mind. She recoiled, but he merely wrapped her in his presence, soothing as best he could, which wasn't much. He wasn't at home with comforting people, so he turned his attention instead to the enemy, firmly expanding his presence to force it back, detaching the clinging tentacles. It moved grudgingly, holding tenaciously to its victim, but he knew it, and it couldn't master his energy. He forced it away from the spirit he held, and turned its assault on himself. Then he attacked, shaping his mind into a blade, a silver beam of fire, cutting through the heart of the malignant force, burning through to reach the golden fire on the other side. The phoenix force responded, flooding the mind with peace, burning up the lingering remnants.
The part of him still in the physical world felt her spasm violently in his arms. He knew that the seed had been expelled, and that it had hurt her, as much as the rape that planted it had. He withdrew from her in sorrow, leaving the phoenix song to sooth her tortured mind, to guide her to rest.
He opened his eyes in the 'real' world, to a hesitant touch on the shoulder. The golden fog had gone, as Fawkes focused his healing power on Hermione, and the others were freed from its enthralling influence. He braced, expecting the assault that would throw him off her, as her friends rushed to her defense. But it didn't come. Startled, he looked up, into faces full of wonder. But that shouldn't be, as they were no longer bespelled.
Poppy knelt beside him. It was her hand on his shoulder. She met his confused gaze, a gentle smile on her face. Tears in her eyes, she embraced him, as Harry and Ron reverently lifted Hermione away. His arms tightened around her instinctively, then released her into their care.
'What ... what happened?' he asked hoarsely.
'You healed her, Severus,' Poppy said quietly. 'Look.' He did. He saw the pale, unblemished skin, all traces of wounds gone. He saw the relaxed expression, eased from the torment that had twisted it. Was that how he looked after Fawkes had graced him? When he had felt the touch of that alien, yet comfortable mind? He met the warm eyes of the phoenix, saw the compassion there. Wonder filled him, and a warm exhaustion. Whatever he had done, it had taken almost everything he had. He could barely lift his head.
But he had to warn her. Beneath that warmth, the cold horror of knowledge held him still. There was only one man who knew to cast that curse, only one spirit vicious enough to harm another so. And it wasn't the Dark Lord.
'Poppy,' he whispered. She leant into him. 'It's Lucius. He's back. He touched her. He's back, Poppy.'
She recoiled in horror. 'No! He's dead, Severus. It can't be him. We know he's dead. You're free, aren't you? He can't still be alive!'
Severus struggled with his exhaustion, struggled to explain. 'Not alive. Returned, but not alive. Her legs ... necrosis. It will heal, but ... It's his touch. He's ... possessed a body, his own, probably. He's a greater Inferi, Poppy, a corpse with a mind. He's come back.'
He looked into her horrified eyes. 'Poppy, she was raped by a corpse. By the corpse of Lucius Malfoy. It's his curse.'
Woah! I billed this thing as horror for a reason. We all knew Lucius wouldn't stand to just die off, but he is such a bastard. Voldemort's got nothing on this guy. We'll meet him next ch, after I recover from the knowledge of what's in my own head. As for the rest, y'all remember back in Ch4 how Severus had a link with Fawkes? Here's an expansin on the relationship. R&R for me? Please?