Dreamless Sleep. He held the opaque, milky-blue bottle in his outstretched hand. "I'll return shortly. You should get some sleep," he said, turning quickly, exiting through the portrait they had just entered, after she took the potion hesitantly. She didn't drink it. She couldn't. The feeling of fear clawing at her stomach from the inside kept her awake and she refused to sleep until she knew what was happening.
Olivia didn't understand why she'd had such a dream...premonition? No. Divination was a joke in most cases. Yes, some witches and wizards had the gift of foresight, but it wasn't in her heritage. Or was it? She didn't know for sure. She would have to research more on the subject when the materials became available to her at the start of term. It wasn't likely her dad would have many texts on the topic.
That feeling. She'd never felt that sort of fear, no, terror. It was a dream, yes, but it had felt so real and she felt so sure of it. Olivia refused to allow that feeling sit idly; she went to the shelves in her father's quarters, pulling the book that she had read many times through. Finding the chapter, she read through the steps again. Assured that she'd had it right, she settled onto the couch, closed her eyes, and began the technique.
Olivia took a deep breath, easing her body to relax. She went into her mind, created the scape. The fog rolled in around her ankles, the scratching and crackle of the roots bent and grew around her, and trees rose up in the distance. Her maze walls were high. The branches untrimmed, jutting out to catch a limb or nearly block a path, but the paths were there; she knew them. She found herself at the entry. Behind her, a deep, black forest had formed, which was a maze in and of itself. Intruders would have to find their way through that first, in order to reach where she was now.
Tucking in beneath a branch, where she knew the entrance lie, she began her journey towards the center. Here, towards the outer rim, unsuspecting items lay scattered. Dried leaves, pebbles and rocks, and the occasional weed or dried flower held a memory, all completely pointless. She picked up a random rock, smooth and grey. A vision of sitting in a boring lecture of Professor Binn's came into her mind. Satisfied, she dropped it and continued on.
The door, which lay before her, was only opened with a memory that lay beyond it. Touching the handle, she brought forth a memory of a fight with Draco. A click signified the locking mechanism releasing. The middle rim of the maze was a mass of, what would appear to outsiders as weeds, flowers, and fruit, but to anyone who knew herbs and plants, it was dangerous. Poison Hemlock, Crown-of-Thorns, Bougainvillea, Oleander, Snakeroot, Deadly Nightshade, Nettle, Hogweed, Poison Ivy and Sumac, Rosary Pea, Aconitum, Crab Eye, Belladonna, and Narcissus were among a few commonly found here. The surrounding walls of bushy foliage became walls of thorny masses.
Memories here, were far more protected by these poisonous, irritating, abrasive, and, in some cases, flesh-eating plants and flowers. If one didn't have the knowledge to distinguish between those and a harmless one, they wouldn't make it through here. Memories were laid within a plant or flower or fruit that was completely harmless, usually blocked and surrounded by the opposite for protection. These memories were not completely useless. They told of her public experiences, her knowledge, but nothing that wouldn't be known or assumed by someone who knew of her.
A bough of Queen Anne's Lace held the memory of a childhood birthday party with Draco and her friends. Black Huckleberry held the memory of the near potion explosion in her first year and her scolding of a Gryffindor. As she moved on, maneuvering around a section of Hogweed, having to push herself against the opposite wall to get by, the thorns scraping against her back, but they were bareable, unlike the effects of the other.
Hidden in the fog, was a tower, the entrance to which also opened by only a memory that lay beyond it. Olivia supposed that she should change the entrance to this area, to something different, but not now. She needed to get beyond. Closing the door behind her, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There were no windows, no lights. However, she knew every area, every step. Reaching out her hand, she felt for the ladder to her left.
Climbing three levels, she came to the area she needed. She stepped off the ladder and onto the platform, which had no railing. If one were to step back too far, they would fall directly to the bottom. Using her fingertips, she felt along the edge of each spine of a book, feeling the ridges and patterns that designated each from the other. Pulling one she knew to be empty, she opened it and laid her hand upon it's pages, pouring into it the dream and the fear and the knowledge she hoped was wrong. As she put it back in it's place on the shelf, she forced the feeling to leave her and stay where she put it.
When she had finished her task, she closed her eyes and felt herself being pulled back into the room, her father's quarters. She felt calm, now, relaxed. The portrait opened and she stood from her place on the couch, turning to see her dad walk through.
He noticed the potion sitting on the entry table, unopened and still full. He sighed quietly. "There is nothing for you to worry about, Olivia. You should get some rest."
"What happened?" she asked calmly.
"An attack at the World Cup field."
"Was it him?"
"Death Eaters. I'm not sure who, but no, I don't believe he is back." He removed his robes, placing them on the coat hanger. "I would know," he added darkly.
She felt the worry rise up again, but she quickly pushed it away. "He will come back, though. Won't he?" It was more statement than question. She knew it. She knew that he knew it.
He looked at her, trying to measure the emotion behind her words. Severus walked to stand in front of her, placing his hands upon her shoulders, feeling the black cotton covering them. "I don't want you to worry about that."
"I do, Daddy," she insisted. Olivia thought for a moment. "I...I am afraid that he will return and...what would happen to you, to Uncle Lucius and Aunt Cissa, to Draco." She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. "I don't like being afraid," she grated. The fact made her angry. She had to put it away and find a way to do whatever it was she had to. As his arms fell across her back, she made a silent vow to herself to become stronger.
Severus said nothing. He had no words to comfort her. He would not lie. Anything he could have said would have been that. The darkness was coming again; he could feel it. A scraping, clawing burning had returned to his arm and he did not welcome it. Lucius's had began to return also. They both had their own duties that came with that mark, but they also had families that would be brought into it. He would be sure Olivia had the means to survive it.
The start of term came as it usually did; Olivia found herself on the platform waiting to leave on the train. She had certainly noticed that both her aunt and uncle looked a bit weary, but they hid it well. After promising to write, she turned and boarded the train with Draco. Waving to her dad, she felt herself being pulled by her sleeve.
Draco's mouth was tight, lips firmly pressed together, a sign of his worry, which was often seen by others as a sign of anger. She knew better. Following quietly, she passed through the door behind him, seeing it was empty. He shut the door and locked it, pulling the blinds down.
"What were you told?" he muttered, still facing the door.
"Enough," she said as she placed her bag on the shelf above. "Did your parents tell you anything?"
Draco spun to face her, nearly spitting his words, "Nothing. Father tells me there's nothing for me to 'concern myself with' while Mother just smiles and says nothing. I am not an idiot. I can see what's going on." He was actively pacing the small area then, only two to three steps for him to cross the other side.
Olivia sat down, biting her lip, wondering what to tell him. "You know about the attack. Death Eaters. They're rising up again. Daddy doesn't think he's back, though. He said he would know if he was."
"But he will come back. Won't he," he said, finally sitting across from her.
"Daddy didn't deny that when I asked," she replied softly. She thought for a moment before telling him. "I have noticed Daddy clenching his left fist sometimes. He will glance down and then, realizing I'm near, quickly go about doing whatever he was doing. He knows that I have noticed, but I don't say anything. He doesn't either."
Draco nodded, "Father, too." He looked into her eyes and she saw his determination. Olivia could see the fear burning just behind it, but the message was clear. "We have to do what we have to do."
She nodded in agreement. "We have to be careful. If he is returning, we have to guard ourselves. Have you learned any Occlumency before?" Seeing the slight shake of his head, she got up, unzipped the side of her bag and rummaged inside for the book. "Here, I've made all the notes I know to make. I've learned what I can from it. Practice. You have to protect your thoughts."
"Things will be worse, now. We'll have to watch our every move. One thing done or said that can be taken as anything traitorous can be turned against us."
"You'll have to be even more of your father's son."
"And you, your father's daughter."
"We can't trust anyone, but each other. You realize that. And our parents." He agreed. Leaning back into the seat, Draco's mouth didn't relax. "We'll be alright, Draco. It hadn't happened yet. It's easier said than done, but try not to worry until you have to. That's what I keep telling myself."
They sat at their usual spots at the Slytherin table, suffering through the boring ordeal of sorting the first years. It seemed much more exciting her first year, being sorted. However, when you've just been on a train for hours and are hungry, the event is more of an inconvenience. It was especially so this year, seeing as everyone saw the ship that came in as well as the flying carriage. Everyone was impatient to hear what it was all about.
"Now that we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement. This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen...," Dumbledore began his speech, but was interrupted by Filch, who seemed rather exasperated about something. Draco snorted at his jogging entrance. Olivia elbowed him, but had to bite her lip to keep herself from doing the same. He continued, "So, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Tri-Wizard Tournement. Now, for those of you who do not know, the Tri-Wizard Tournement brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. For each school, a single student is selected to complete. Let me be clear, if chosen, you stand alone. Trust me when I say that these contests are not for the fainthearted. But more of that later. For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of The Beauxbaton's Academy of Magic and their Headmistress, Madam Maxine."
The doors of the Great Hall opened and in poured a stream of flittering blue dressed blonds, followed by their Headmistress, who, Olivia assumed, was part giantess. She ignored the drooling from the boys and just shook her head at their display of charm and, in her opinion, fairly useless magic. How is a glittering butterfly going to help a witch do anything, anyhow?
"And now, our friends from the North, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their High Master, Igor Karkaroff."
This drew her attention. She'd read of the name. 'Ex'-Death Eater Karkaroff had been on trial after the Dark Lord's disappearance and was only released due to him giving up names of other Death Eaters. Seeing Viktor Krum walking in, she glanced to her right to find Draco rolling his eyes. Olivia smiled, knowing he was still angry about the Quidditch Cup.
The wizard in front, kneeling before Dumbledore, took the wand from his boot, blowing a fire-dragon from it, the flames swirling around him. She gasped quietly, never having seen such magic in person. She felt a quick jab to her arm. "Ow!" she growled. "Draco, what was that for?"
"Oh, you know what. I saw you looking at those...imbeciles," he muttered.
"What?" she hissed. "I wasn't looking at them. I was impressed by that spell." He scoffed and looked away. "What does it matter if I was anyway? If you and the boys can look at those French tarts, why can't I look at a boy?"
"Was not," he growled in denial. "Whatever. Just...not them." Draco started on his dinner, the feast having begun while they argued. That's when it hit her. Olivia smiled in realization. Draco was jealous. Of what, she couldn't be sure, but she left it at that and started on her own meal.
When the feast was finished, Dumbledore continued to explain the rules of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, which ended up making a lot of people angry. Olivia wasn't paying much attention. She was busy taking note of what she needed to start researching, practicing, and studying. She knew that she needed to think of other ways to better protect her mind, but that would take time and the right thing to inspire an idea. Firstly, she needed to figure out what had caused that dream.
Of her classes, Olivia was especially excited about starting her new electives, having chosen Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. The minimum requirement was two electives, but she just didn't feel any inclination towards the others and would only waste her time in choosing any of them. It would give her more time to focus on her other subjects and research.
Olivia had just completed the last equation from her Arithmancy homework and decided that, whilst in the library with a couple hours before dinner, it was time to find something about her dream. But where to search... She supposed that the best place to look was in some section of divination.
Premonitions, Deja Vu, Procognition, Meanings of Dreams, Prophecies. None of them seemed to fit what she was looking for. "Of course," she laughed. She shouldn't be looking for anything futuristic. When she dreamt, it was happening or had just happened in reality. Could it have been an astral projection?
Through the catalog, she found the basic text and settled at the empty table nearest the shelf. 'Throughout our existence, many often live without every knowing the presence of their six energy bodies. Astral projection is a technique that allows one to coexist with one of those energy bodies. One's soul energy has a vibration most similar to our physical energy's vibration, which is what allows the two to operate as entirely two separate entities for a time.
'Whether induced or unexpected, astral projection almost always begins the same way. One may feel an internal vibration, a weightlessness, and/or a pressure, not uncomfortable, on the body. The soul body may wake, rise up, and turn to find the physical body still asleep. This is often known as half-sleep. It is here that we are between worlds.
'In this state, you may see shadows, misty masses, or strange shapes in various greys or blacks. These are other energies that have not yet been given shape. There is also the presence of the Silver Cord, which is the solid link between our soul and physical bodies. In the process of moving from this half-sleep to true astral projection, one simply has to imagine where they want to be.'
It didn't match at all what she'd experienced. She sighed in disappointment. Flipping a few pages over, she skimmed a few of the headings. Dangers with Dark Magic and the Silver Cord. Olivia read a little, intrigued.
'Sometimes within the magical world, damage to the Silver Cord can occur. Though non-magical beings can experience astral projection, danger arises when in contact with magic during the process. Damage to the Silver Cord can result in death, if the cord is severed completely. Rarely does the Silver Cord become damaged in such ways; however, it can happen. Never attempt to cut, split, or pull at the cord while on the astral plane.
'Dark magic presents an entirely separate problem. If the being practices Dark Arts, it is advised that the being never attempt to induce astral projection as dark magic upsets the vibration of soul energy. A being who practices or has been subject to dark magic, even in close contact, may experience a damaged Silver Cord if their energy vibrations have been disrupted.
'A damaged Silver Cord can result in fragmented astral projection, often sudden unexpected. The energy is unable to control or induce the projection. The person may experience only inconvenient projections, but the person may also experience truly terrifying occurrences. The soul is in a fragile state and much more receptive to information that is in the astral plane.
'These experiences may include seeing death, whether past, present, or future (as the occurrence and energy remains within the astral plane for much longer), ghosts, residual dark energy left behind, and unwanted precognition.
'Projection resulting from a damaged cord may or may not be in relation to an outside energy presenting itself. Some record is known of projection being worse around other dark magic or similar dark magic to that which caused the damage, but it is unknown.
'No known repair exists at present. Occlumency is recommended to those who fall victim to such, in order to lessen the occurrence of these attacks (unexpected projections).'
The attack had happened at the same time of her dream. Was it possible that it, even from that distance, had propelled her into the astral plane, witnessing the event as it happened? It was the only explanation she had at the moment. Olivia could understand the strength of the magic the Dark Lord and his followers had used. That kind of energy certainly would bleed over into any plane of existence.
But that didn't explain why it was her that was propelled. Olivia had never used dark magic. Not even her dad had used it near her, since the Dark Lord fell. She couldn't remember ever being around dark magic. How else could this event be explained, though? She had to have been.
No. Olivia wouldn't think about it. The thought had briefly entered her mind, but she pushed it away just as quickly. Shutting the book, she returned it to the shelf, pausing as her fingers brushed the spine. How had her mother died?
She shook the thought away once more. A spell or way to repair the cord must exist. She just needed to find it.
It just just after dinnertime and Olivia found herself in the darkened music room, empty of students. Her fingers floated across the keys, playing a delicate melody. She simply wanted to keep up her skill, unable to play as often during the school year. Professor Flitwick had given her access to the piano whenever she liked.
"You truly are very talented, Miss Snape," he said, walking from his office towards the door.
"Thank you, Professor," she smiled.
"You're in your third year, now. The school orchestra would be very pleased to have you, if you'd like to join."
"I'm not much for group play, Professor, but I appreciate the confidence." Flipping the page to her piece, she continued.
Professor Flitwick came to stand next to her bench, closing his eyes, reveling in sound. "Well, that's our loss. Perhaps, I can persuade you to think about playing at the Christmas feast?" As Olivia opened her mouth to protest, he interrupted, "Just think about it," he smiled. When she nodded, he moved towards the door again, "Remember curfew," he reminded.
"Yes, Professor," she laughed as he closed the door behind him.
An hour later, she left the room and headed back towards the dungeons. All the way, she thought about everything the book had said earlier that day, about her dream, and she thought about all the other things she needed to practice and learn. Olivia made a mental list of spells and techniques she wanted to perfect. As she rounded the corner, she saw her dad leaving his quarters, likely on his way to start his rounds.
"You're almost late, Miss Snape," he drawled. She could tell it was in half-jest.
She smiled. "Almost is not late...Professor," she said, seeing a couple other Slytherins come down the corridor, after nearly calling him 'Daddy.' "Good evening, Professor."
His robes swept about him as he turned to leave. Olivia walked through the painting, only to be greeted by Pansy Parkinson, draped on Draco's lap on the couch in the middle of the common room. The other Slytherin students were completely oblivious to them, minding their own business. She had her hands on his shoulders, her lips on his. Olivia made a sound of disgust and quickly walked to the stairwell leading to her dorm.
Just as she was about to start up the stairs, she turned a little, pulling the wand from her sleeve. Discretely, she aimed and put all her will into one thought. 'Steleus!' She was extremely pleased when, in the midst of kissing, Pansy sneezed right into Draco's face. He stood so quickly, dumping her into the floor. Olivia started up the stairs before she could be seen or heard laughing. She was sure she heard the other Slytherins laughing, Pansy apologizing and sounding distraught, and Draco running up his own side of the stairwell to likely to wash his face.