Chapter 21 - The Lengthened Shadow

*00oo00oo00oo00*


No one answered at her knock. Raven checked the time.

7:30 on the button.

Again, she knocked on the door to the Potions classroom. After waiting an appropriate amount of time, she tried the handle. To her surprise, it was unlocked and opened easily under her touch. As soon as her hand touched the doorknob, she felt something magical shimmer around her...wards, she realized. Yet they didn't hinder her - to the contrary - they admitted her entrance. Raven raised an eyebrow, instantly on alert. If there was one thing she knew about Professor Snape, it was that he didn't alter wards to grant access to just anyone for no reason.

The classroom was deserted, the stools upturned on the long wooden tables. As the sorceress stepped further into the room, she gave the room a more thorough search. No one. She frowned in curiosity, closing the dungeon door behind her, the latching noise it made echoing slightly in the damp, stone room. Raven strolled over to the professor's desk and stood waiting.

A minute passed. She shifted her weight to the other foot.

Another minute. Raven crossed her arms.

Five minutes gone by. She grew restless. If Severus was still in a snit over the argument last night, the least he could have done was inform her the meeting was canceled. Raven sighed in irritation. Her eyes spied the two doors on opposite sides of the room. Curiosity got the better of her, and the demoness approached one. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, she cracked it open just enough to peek inside. The room adjacent to the classroom was obviously Snape's office, what with the sparse layout. A simple wooden desk on one side, a fireplace in the wall facing it, a window projecting the view of the Hogwarts grounds. And another door. But Raven didn't want to invade too much of Professor Snape's privacy, and didn't wish to sour their relationship further by doing so.

She shut the door and returned to the desk. Another few minutes passed before she turned her gaze to the other door in the classroom. It was smaller, and appeared to be the wooden door to a closet. Most likely potions ingredients. Still, she wanted to see for herself. So she walked to it and turned the handle.

The heady scent of mixed spices, ingredients, and other smells invaded her nostrils as soon as the heavy door was cracked. She could identify common scents, such as sage, lavender, and mint. There was even the smell of soil, peat, and blood. But there were others there entirely foreign to her knowledge. The door opened further, and she was surprised to see shelves lining each of the walls from the floor up to the ceiling...each filled with glass bottles of varying sizes and shapes.

But what startled her the most, was the cloaked figure standing at the back of the closet, its back to her.

Raven's short gasp in surprise alerted the form to her presence, and it quickly straightened up to its full height and turned around. The sorceress swallowed her embarrassment at having been caught snooping and forced herself to look into Snape's eyes calmly. She was doing a poor job at reading whether he was still upset with her. In fact, she was doing a poor job at reading him at all...

"My apologies, Professor, I didn't mean to -"

The Potions Master silenced her with a graceful spin of his hand. "No need. I was restocking the shelves and became preoccupied." With a flourish of his arm, he spun around and finished placing the last bottle he'd been holding in its designated spot.

If he was still peeved, he didn't show it. Raven gave a slight smirk, deciding to test just how well he'd recovered from their rift the other day. "You instructed me to be here at 7:30, Professor...since you cannot seem to live up to even your simplest of instructions, I have few expectations our meetings shall be in the least bit productive," she replied wryly.

Snape turned sharply, staring at her in surprise at her playful jab. In the space of an instant, a myriad of expressions passed over his face, and without warning, he advanced to within a foot of her in a single, domineering step.

He looked down at her over his aquiline nose in what he had intended to be a horrible sneer. But as the moment grew, the sneer softened into what could almost be a crooked smile. His black eyes were trying to be fierce, but they instead gained a distant, longing quality as he gazed into hers. How she wished she was able to determine what he was thinking - feeling - at that moment. Where were her empathic powers now?

Raven felt the change in the atmosphere slowly morph into something a little more personal. That look in his eyes! She noticed her heart-rate increasing rapidly, and her breathing become somewhat erratic. Her mind was swimming with something she couldn't quite define. This...closeness...to him was overwhelming. Intoxicating. Exciting. And terrifying.

That look in his eyes...

She felt a warmth spread in her stomach, mixed with butterflies. Her legs felt like jelly. And somehow she remained standing.

"I have to confess, Raven." Her stomach did a back flip at the sound of her given name...it was the first time he'd used it. "You are..." he paused to look down at his feet – nearly impossible given the lack of distance between them. "...a remarkable woman," he finished, his head still downcast. Was he nervous? He of all people? It was hard to comprehend this was happening. "I... regret lashing out at you last night. I've never felt so off guard as I am around you."

She was momentarily grateful he wasn't looking into her eyes at that moment, for they widened significantly. Her pupils contracted a little. She was feeling things she should never feel. Or admit to feeling. There were just some things that were not possible for a half-demon. Love was one of them. She could very easily grow to love this man. A small bubble of panic grew in her chest as she realized how close she was to the edge. This can't happen. For the sake of humanity...for his sake.

His strong presence came even nearer, and she began to shrink away...but she felt his firm, yet gentle hands come to rest on her arms to support her. Her heart was racing...now from terror. This shouldn't be happening. She couldn't... shouldn't do this. Her father had damned her to a life of isolation merely by bringing her into existence. She had known this from the day her destiny was explained to her by the Monks on Azarath all those many years ago.

She would ultimately destroy that what she loved. She couldn't love him. Could not let herself love him. Or anyone.

She. Could. Not.

One of his fingers curled around the bottom of her chin to nudge her head up to look at him. The back of his hand rose to caress her cheek softly. "Raven, I..." he trailed off.

She was panting, now...not from attraction or lust, but from the same terror that made her pull back from the Potions Master. "No," she croaked. "I can't... It's not that I don't... I just can't."

"Can't feel," he finished sadly, his eyes downcast. His shoulders were slumped in defeat, and Raven felt so very frightened...and horrible...and helpless.

A resolve crossed his face as he looked up to meet her gaze again. "I'm just as uncertain. And I know the potential consequences for you. But I want to give it a chance. Will you let me?" He reached down and scooped up her hands in his, gently pulling her back to his body. She was flush against him, back arched a little as his height bent her backwards slightly.

"If you'll let me..." he whispered; his head lowered gradually, tilting his face to allow for his nose. Going slow enough to give her time to stop him.

Her heart was racing. Panic. A jar exploded on a shelf in the classroom, and a stool toppled to the floor.

His lips were almost on hers.

Her hair flowed unnaturally in a non-existent breeze and her hands trembled slightly against her will. Terror.

Then...

"UN-HAND HER!"

Raven started violently at the voice, but Snape didn't appear to be startled at all. He merely gave a nasty snarl like a wild beast at the intruder and slowly let go of her. The Potions Master stiffened to his full height and glared in the direction of the voice.

The sorceress whipped her head around and stared in disbelief: Standing in the far corner of the classroom with his wand drawn, not more than five paces away, was Severus Snape.Raven could scarcely believe her eyes.

The new Snape stalked forward, keeping his wand trained on his doppleganger. "Miss Roth," he bit out, "Be so kind as to get behind me at once."

Raven nearly drowned in the overwhelming humiliation she felt. She must have been the biggest moron on the planet. Who on earth would mistake this...that...as the real Professor Snape?

She unquestioningly complied with his order. As soon as she was behind the professor, the false Snape began to shimmer unnaturally. Raven watched with intent curiosity as the image of the man in front of her didn't change into something else...rather, when it regained a solid form, it was still of Severus Snape. Only this version appeared to be an exact replica of the original. There was nothing Raven could identify as being different. It stared back at the real Snape with the same, cold, sneering expression to which she was so accustomed.

For a moment, Raven could make out an acrid smell of blood and smoke. It was a moment before her ears began to register the sound of screams, of men, women, and children...in pain, fear, and mourning. The gaunt figure spoke in a condescending tone she often heard him use. "One day, Snape. One day you'll slip." It smiled wickedly. "You can't hide it all forever."

The real Snape finally found his voice and barked out an incantation. "Riddikulus!"

The reaction was almost instantaneous. The fake Snape was forcibly inverted, hanging by his feet from the ceiling rafters, his cape, now a ludicrously stereotypical Dracula costume, hanging down around his neck. "I vant to suck yourrr blaaaaad!" it said with a corny Transylvanian accent between its comically large fangs before falling asleep.

Severus used a Levi-Corpus spell to guide it back into the ingredients cupboard and slammed the door shut after it.

For a long moment, the two of them simply stared at the closed door.

"I doubt that turned out as either of us expected," Raven commented.

Snape gave her a long look she couldn't quite read, then turned away, forcing his feet to carry him to his desk. With shaking hands, Severus summoned a bottle of brandy and tumbler, his back still facing her. "Leave."

Raven paused. "What was that thing?"

"Get out of my classroom."

She frowned, striding towards him. "Not until I get an explanation for what just happened. You know what that was."

Snape spun sharply on his heel, the half-full glass still in his hand, his eyes narrowed into slits. "That," he bit out, "was a Boggart. And what just happened...will never be spoken of again."

"What did just happen! I believe I am entitled to an explanation."

The Potions Master sighed heavily and took a long sip, the tremors in his fingers slowly disappearing. "It was...part of your lesson." The professor regarded his liquor with a considering expression before knocking it back in one go and slamming it back down on his desk. "I needed to see how you reacted to your worst fear. How volatile you are. That's what the Boggart does. It takes the form of your worst fear." Here he paused and set the tumbler on the edge of his desk. "I did not anticipate the result that so colorfully appeared."

"And yet you allowed it to continue."

"Of course I did!" he snapped angrily. "To see myself as your worst fear begs clarification."

"And you got it," Raven answered coldly.

"Indeed," he sneered. "Though why it took my form instead of any number of men you've met is explanation in and of itself that you are lacking in romantic experience." His breath was shakey, but he continued his attack. "That it should be me, merely for the fact you've spent the past several days near me! Tell me, Miss Roth, is this the longest you've ever been in the company of a man before?"

The sorceress wasn't thrown by his attack. Not this time. Now she was prepared for his hurtful method of self-defense, and she wouldn't let him get to her. "Not at all," Raven shot back. "Quid pro quo, Professor. Tell me this: why does it frighten you so much that a woman might see past your defenses and like you for who you are?"

Snape looked at her for a long while, his eyes still ablaze as he considered her. "Well that question is purely hypothetical now, considering the display that just took place this evening."

"If it wasn't a possibility, would it have manifested itself?"

Refusing to let his eyes drop to the floor, Severus looked to the side...anything to avoid her gaze. His mouth opened as if to speak, but closed a moment later. His voice was surprisingly quiet as he spoke his next words. "If you rank me as one of your possibilities, you have a more laughably inferior sense of judgment than I had imagined." By his tone, she knew he meant 'taste'.

Raven looked down, finally surrendering. "I cannot continue to argue my case, since my..." her lips twisted in disgust as she finally forced out the word: "...disabilities...make it impossible for me to form any meaningful and lasting relationships. But I will not continue to stand for your self-deprecation."

Snape gave her a reproaching look.

"For chrissake, Severus," she harshened, "you are your own Boggart!"

The professor straightened his spine and narrowed his eyes. "And it's a wonder why you are not yours," he drawled silkily. "I hold hundreds...maybe thousands of lives in my hands with the knowledge I have. Every time I'm Summoned by the Dark Lord, it's one more time they could break me. If I fail to bring my mind barriers up fast enough one time... or let a stray thought enter my mind at just the wrong moment... or am caught unaware when someone uses his name... or even, to grow fond of a beautiful, and intelligent woman whose feelings for me could be used as leverage..." He trailed off, but regained his focus after a beat. "I am an asset to the Light, but even more so a threat."

He glanced back up to her, his eyes fighting to regain their sharpness. "You hold the entire world in your hands. Does that not terrify you?"

"You know it does, Severus," her voice quiet, submissive.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Why then, would your most prevalent fear be of falling in love?"

The demoness breathed a long sigh, trying to choose her words quite carefully...wishing they were not having this discussion, yet knowing it was a necessity. "My worst fear is losing control. Of letting the dark half of me escape and unleash its destruction on the world. Losing control takes on many forms. I suppose the Boggart knew that this was the most prevalentform that threatens me now."

Her violet eyes gaged his reaction to her words, and they were not disappointed. He jerked his gaze to meet hers, as though trying to determine if she were serious, then upon seeing she was absolutely genuine, he had to look away. His breathing pattern changed a little.

"I..." he started, but was struggling to continue. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. I'm sorry for forcing you to see that Boggart. I'm sorry for reminding you of the stunted life you are forced to endure. I'm sorry for inadvertently making it harder... And I'm sorry for lacking the will to shut myself off from you. "My apologies for the lack of professionalism that has led you to this position, Miss Roth. I assure you our future sessions will not be plagued by such an environment."

"There will be little need," the sorceress shook her head, "seeing as the Malfoy engagement is this weekend. That leaves little time for whatever preparation Dumbledore had in mind."

Snape waved his hand theatrically. "I doubt there is much you would not be capable of handling without prior training. Being as things are, I dismiss you."

In a truly feminine gesture, Raven shifted her weight, placing a hand on her hip. "You're not going to cut another one of our meetings short again merely because we keep finding ourselves in awkward situations, Professor. I won't allow it."

He exhaled loudly through his nose in irritation. "Are you always this demanding?" he snapped.

A purple eyebrow rose. "Usually."

His lips quirked upward in amusement as he watched her. "Mule."

"Horse's ass," she returned, equally as blunt.

They stood and regarded each other for a good moment, their eyes conveying many an unspoken, shared wish: If only this was taking place under different circumstances. "Well," Snape broke the silence, "At least that's cleared up." He eyed the bottle of brandy sitting next to him on the desk, deliberating whether a second glass would be beyond the boundaries of prudence. Choice firmly made - consequences be damned, he poured himself another two-fingers from the glass decanter and conjured another snifter for his guest, holding the decanter and glass questioningly.

The smile Raven offered didn't quite reach her eyes, but it was accepted for what it was, nonetheless. "'Suppose it couldn't hurt," she mumbled, knowing full well that alcohol should be the last thing she imbibed. She crossed the room and took the half-full tumbler from a half-amused Severus. He briefly wondered what an intoxicated Raven would look like before shaking his head and speculating on how much experience with fine liquor she'd had.

Snape had a wicked, if well-hidden, sense of humour, and he would have enjoyed watching the girl knock back the brandy as if it were water. Disappointingly, she had the sense to swirl the balloon glass in the accepted manner, before taking a delicate sip and expressing her approval. "Very nice," Raven commented. "Now, are you going to tell me what you've decided to do?"

Severus blinked. "Regarding?"

A corner of her mouth rose in a grin. "For the rest of the lesson, naturally, professor. I believe we still have forty minutes."

A look of surprise crossed his face before he instinctively removed all traces of expression from his features, then gave thought to the issue. His hesitation was only a matter of seconds, but it was clear he'd been caught off guard. "Spells," he retorted shortly. "Dark Arts spells." His declaration was met with a slight nod to continue. "While you certainly have reason to believe you stand a chance against the Dark Lord merely on your own merits, you have not yet had the benefit of testing your abilities against true Dark Arts magic. That shall be remedied tonight."

It was Raven's turn to look slightly disbelieving, but mostly entertained. "I never expected you to be the sort to start flinging hexes at someone on the faith they'll be able to deflect them, professor."

The Potions Master smirked at the mental images her remarks incited. "As satisfying and tempting as it sounds, I was thinking more along the lines of..." his lips formed her words with contempt, "flinging hexes' at a predetermined target whilst you attempted to block them from a safe distance."

Some small part of her relaxed. But maybe that was just because of the brandy.


The brown rat let out a squeal of terror as the spray of purple fire rushed at him from the tip of the dark man's wand, and struggled in earnest to writhe free of the invisible restraints that kept him trapped on the desk. Mere moments before the trail of flames reached his frantic form, a wall of semi-translucent black energy materialized out of nothing and not only blocked the fire, but absorbed and swallowed it up. The rat was petrified, not wholly certain the fire would reappear and consume him. For the dark man, he merely tilted his head in a semi-nod, betraying the fact he was actually impressed.

The next curse was worse than fire, but thankfully Raven would not discover what the effect of it was, since it evaporated in her vortex of energy. This continued for another ten to fifteen minutes, Snape casting nasty hexes and curses at the rat, each one horribly more evil than the last. Each one was blocked, absorbed, or deflected by Raven's unique power. While she couldn't claim that it was a piece of cake, as several beads of sweat were now snaking their way down her face, she found that she was quite capable of defending against this magic. As the curses grew steadily more powerful and forceful, it required more and more effort and concentration on her part to safely dispose of them.

Once Snape seemed satisfied that her ability was sufficient to defend against the most common (and even a few creative) Dark Arts attacks, he decided it was time to test her on, in his opinion, the most important attacks she would need to block.

"Unforgivable Curses. Quite an unimaginative name," she commented upon hearing their title. Severus had seemed almost excited as he described the three most infamous spells known to the Wizarding World, and why they were so important. These were the spells most commonly used by Lord Voldemort, and these were the spells she would most likely be faced with, should things go south with Raven's infiltration into his ranks. These were the curses that no known magic could block, undo, or prevent.

The Imperio. Mind control. The ultimate violation of a person's basic right. This was the next step of Legillimacy into the bounds of depravity. This was something not even her father had managed to implement on her, though she had no doubt in her mind he would have done so in a heartbeat had he known how. She thanked God Trigon hadn't known about this, for if she wasn't able to withstand its power, her father's prior triumph would have remained permanently. She shuddered at the thought.

This time around, Severus directed his wand directly at her. Confident, but still cautious, Raven took a steadying breath as she prepared to block his curse. Snape was barely able to say the entire incantation before her shields were raised in front of her, a tall, ebony barricade. Surprisingly, there were no sparks or light that shot out of Snape's wand once he'd finished commanding "Imperio," but it was clearly obvious by the ripple effect in her black, transparent wall that something had easily pierced it like a pebble pierces the surface of a lake. Raven barely had a moment of shocked surprise before she felt the spell hit her square in the bindi on her forehead.

At once, she felt her sudden seize of panic at her shield's failure melt away. Aside from an unnatural sense of calm, the demoness felt entirely natural. She wondered whether or not her natural mind barriers had deflected the Imperius curse. It was a likely possibility. She felt the urge to test herself, to make absolutely certain she was in complete control of her mind. She held a hand in front of her face and shook it. Yep. She meant to do that. Next she shook a leg. Entirely under her control. This Imperius stuff apparently wasn't effective on half demons. She rose both hands and flicked them around. Yet again, entirely under control. She smirked a little...being a little other-worldly had its benefits, that was certain. She recalled a childhood song, the Hokey Pokey, something Snape would never have heard of, and proved herself in control yet again by sticking her right foot in, her right foot out, and back in again, and shaking it all about. It had been so long since she'd heard that song...even longer since she'd danced to it. She tried to remember how it went. She had just turned herself about, and was in the process of putting her butt in to shake it all about, when it struck her just precisely what she was doing. She would never...ever stick her booty in and shake it all about. She froze in mid bend.

The warm, calm sensation disappeared, and she straightened up immediately. She could barely meet Snape's eyes. She didn't need to, though, for he broke the silence easily. "It's impressive that you broke the curse so early. But then again, I suggested you do something entirely out of character...it's no wonder that someone of your discipline was able to decipher the abnormalities in your train of thought." He half-sat himself against the edge of his desk, crossing his ankles in a relaxed manner she hadn't been accustomed to seeing in him. "Common misconception is that the Imperius curse is about as subtle as a well-aimed brick. The rumor is at least supported with the typical blank-stare so often seen on victims. However, this is entirely due to the lack of ability by the caster. A true master at this curse can subtly plant inclinations or leading thoughts into someone's normal thinking pattern, making it seem to the victim that nothing is amiss and came up with the commands entirely on their own." It was unnecessary to point out the obvious that the Order's spy was quite adept at the spell, himself, leading Raven to wonder how often and under what conditions he used it.

"I can see how dangerous it is," her weak voice did little to disguise how deeply this experience had shaken her. If it had been that easy to get her to debase herself, just think how easy it would be for someone with truly evil motivations to send her over the edge. It wouldn't take much to create an inner-monologue meant to build up emotion in her.

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "And this while you were fully expecting the spell. I'd hate to think of how long it would take you to realize you were Imperiused if you had no idea someone had cast it on you."

She didn't move for awhile, slowly composing herself. Wordlessly, she took the proffered snifter from Snape's hand and dispensed with the formalities of etiquette, downing the shot in one gulp to steady her nerves. In an awkward attempt at compassion, the Slytherin put an unsure hand on her shoulder. Raven was stuck with how inexperienced and ungraceful the effort was, and couldn't help recognizing how differently she felt with this physical contact compared to the shoulder-clasp by Malfoy senior. She did not lean into the hand, but neither did she shrink away. Human contact made her uncomfortable, and self conscious...but this was...reassuring. Soothing.

"Right," she announced once she'd pulled herself together, placing her glass on the desk and turning to face him. "Again." Severus cast a skeptical look at her from his guarded expression, but didn't question whether she was sure.

They worked on the Imperius for the next twenty minutes, until Snape felt confident she could detect the curse entering her mind, even when cast silently and she was not prepared. They worked on the Imperius an additional ten minutes until Raven felt twice as confident of the same thing. The sorceress made clear to the Potions Master that this was one area she needed to be 100% certain about, and he deferred to her judgment.

Next was the Cruciatus. The poor rat was to be the target of this curse yet again. The dark Slytherin had flat-out refused to target her when she insisted. The fact that her shields had proven to be penetrable once cemented the resolution in his mind not to risk hitting her with the spell he was so familiar with.

"I'm not a stranger to pain," she had said.

Be that as it may, it didn't sway him in the slightest. She may have felt pain in her life...possibly even stronger pain than the Cruciatus (impossible in human terms, but she was more than human)...she may even experience the Cruciatus at some point. But it would not be at his hand. He had enough guilt to live with every waking moment, thank you very much.

She had complied with his rock-solid stance and agreed to defend the rat.

The red light that shot out of his wand crackled like electricity and zoomed to the animal like a bolt of lightning. Raven was surprised and intrigued when the jumping beam of light made contact with, and pushed itself through her black wall, like slowly forcing your fist through a wall of Jello. Her barrier had slowed it down, but not stopped it. The delay gave her time to throw up another wall, this one thicker and using more of her energy and concentration to maintain. Yet this one was just as effective as the first...it took the piercing, crimson light a little longer to wade through it...perhaps three seconds at most...before jumping out the other side of it and striking the rat.

The young demoness winced at the gut-wrenching screams and squeals the rat made as it writhed and twitched in agony of the curse. She'd heard too much of that in her lifetime. Severus had lifted the spell soon after it hit the rodent, but the screams continued for a good minute afterwords. Neither said a word as they stood in silence, both holding each others eye contact while the shrieks dissipated. "I notice you didn't stop it's pain with your power,' Snape commented offhandedly, his voice surprisingly nonjudgmental.

She paused before answering, lowering her eyes to the floor, then turning them to look at the panting, twitching mound on the desk. When she spoke, her tone was quiet. Subdued...sad, even. "It's a reminder that there are consequences when I fail."

The Slytherin understood better than she knew. When he failed, people die. When she failed...the universe perishes in a holocaust.

Raven didn't flinch or react to the description of the third and final Unforgivable. The death of the rat didn't surprise her in the least. She'd expected it, really, considering her previous failures. The sparkling green light hadn't melted or popped through her barrier like the first two...it had rammed into and driven through it like an icepick drilling through a layer of ice in one smash. The jolt of the penetration had jarred her a little, but she felt nothing at all when the rodent's life was terminated. It had suffered enough.

With a wave of his wand, Snape got rid of the little corpse. "You know your limitations, now. It was necessary to find out." His voice held a note of apology.

Raven said nothing.

The Potions Master was secretly shocked, and more than a little worried, at this compulsive urge he had to fill the silence. "There are no known ways of stopping these three curses. It only happened once, and you know his name. It merits a remark that you were even able to slow them down. Aside from Potter, that is the most anyone has been able to do."

Severus was surprised when she looked up at him with a smirk. "How gratifying," she said dryly.

"It should be," he tilted his head down at her with a raised eyebrow. "No one else has been able to delay the Killing Curse or the Cruciatus before, regardless of how short a delay it is."

His heart nearly seized up when she smiled up at him with...almost fondness in her eyes. "I suppose a lot can happen in the span of a couple seconds," Raven mused.

Get a grip, man! He scowled at his own foolish reactions, causing the girl to quirk an eyebrow in a startling imitation of his own. Snape stowed his wand back up his sleeve just for something to do with his hands.


By the time either of them glanced at the time, it was already far past the time their lesson should have ended. Her departure from his classroom was significantly improved than the previous one, and yet at the same time, worse. They were both on equal footing, now, having discovered their mutual...regard...for the other. But it was agonizing to know nothing could be done about it.

Raven teleported to her room and began meditating at once, trying to calm the storm, and stamp out the self-pity that had taken her by the throat.

Control. Stay in control.

She sat Indian-style in the center of the living room of her chambers...it was here or the bedroom, and there was a bed in the way in the bedroom. Her body levitated a good three feet in the air as she chanted her mantra, instilled in her since being raised by the monks of Azarath. There was power in the words, but even more power in their repetition. They stilled the thoughts that were constantly running through her mind, and centered her concentration.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

Calm... She absorbed this word and let it soak into the very fabric of her being.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

...Self Control.

With each word, she let it hover in her conscious mind before swallowing it to let it filter out to the rest of her soul. Tranquility.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."

Her left eyelid twitched just a little. Emotionless.

She forcibly tried to smooth out her features to keep them from pinching up, but she couldn't make herself relax her eyebrows. Hollow.

Her face contorted into a frown, her teeth baring just a little, and before she could stop herself, she said what she hated her father most for. Alone...

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos."


Author's Notes: I'm rather disappointed with the direction it's going. I had been trying to slowly build up Snape and Raven's relationship. Unfortunately, due to my lack of experience with writing long stories (particularly romance), I'm not that well adept at creating slow-burning love on paper. Please forgive me. It was intended to develop very slowly, and to keep everyone in character, but the amount of time it's taken just to get this far spurs me to just cut to the chase, so to speak, and get on with the plot :)

"Fear has a long shadow, but he himself is small." - Ruth Gendler