All Fathers Are Overprotective of Their Daughters
Arista was allowed to sleep in the morning after her adventure with the mermaid, and
Colin even excused her from her self-defense lesson, even though she insisted she was perfectly fine. "It won't kill you to take it easy for a day," the blond-haired wizard said. "Go back to bed like a normal teenager and sleep."
So Arista lounged in bed, reading up some more on the history of werewolves and trying to come up with a way to use the Wolfsbane potion as a catalyst for her healing power. If the potion neutralizes the more vicious aspects of the disease, then maybe I can isolate the virus with my power and put it to sleep forever, kind of like what chemotherapy treatments do to certain kinds of cancer, she mused. Of course in order to test this theory, I'm going to need a sample vial of a werewolf's blood. Not exactly something they've got lying around in a cabinet here, so where can I get some? Maybe Dad will know.
That thought was enough to make her jump up out of bed and scramble into her clothes, the pleasures of lazing about all day in bed forgotten. She ran a comb through her short wavy locks, shoved her feet into her sneakers, and was ready to go find her father in ten minutes.
She pulled open the door to find Professor Snape standing there, one hand lifted to knock. "Good afternoon. Since you're up and about, I assume you're feeling better."
"Hi. I feel fine," she assured him. "And I don't need any more of that." She made a face at the goblet in his other hand, which was giving off a distinctive sour aroma.
"I'll be the judge of that," he frowned, reaching out a hand to feel her forehead.
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not sick. Really."
He ignored her. "Take a deep breath. Don't argue with me, young lady, just do it."
Indignantly, she did as she was told. "Dad, I'm a Healer, I'd know if I was sick."
"Humph. Healers make the worst patients, don't think I don't know that. Again." He listened carefully to her breathing. It was perfectly normal. "Very well. You don't have to take this second draft." The smoking goblet vanished.
She breathed a sigh of vast relief. "Do you know where I can get some werewolf blood, Dad? Not a whole lot, just enough to fill a small vial."
"What's it for?"
She explained her new theory.
He looked thoughtful. "That sounds almost plausible. I'll see what I can do. Remus Lupin, who used to teach here last year, is a werewolf, and he might consent to donate a vial of blood once I tell him what you're doing."
"Awesome!" she grinned. "Only I can't promise anything."
"I'll tell him not to expect a miracle," Snape said dryly. "Meanwhile, it's lunchtime, I think you ought to eat something."
"Good idea. I am sort of hungry." She led the way up the stairs to the Great Hall. "Is Neville all right? He got soaked too helping me last night."
"Longbottom's got a touch of asthma, so he's still resting in bed and I'm dosing him with the Decongestion Draft I gave you last night. He should be well by tomorrow."
Arista felt sorry for Neville, forced to drink that horrible medicine. But at least it worked. "How do you make it, anyhow?"
"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking that." He fished
in a pocket, withdrawing a piece of parchment. "Here's the recipe. It takes about an hour to brew, but the longer you let it simmer, the more effective it is."
"And the more terrible it tastes, I'll bet," she muttered, taking the paper and scanning
it.
"I don't hear you coughing, do you?" he asked pointedly.
"No, but why does medicine have to taste so awful?"
"To keep kids from wanting to get sick," he answered with a sly smirk. "If medicine
tasted like butterbeer, we'd have an epidemic every other week."
"I knew it!" she cried. "It's a conspiracy between all you adults."
Professor Snape's mouth twitched into a rare half-smile. "But of course. We have
to have some advantages over all of you incorrigible teenagers."
"Real nice. When's it our turn?"
"When you grow up," he answered, then pushed open the door to the hall.
* * * * * *
Snape was as good as his word, contacting Lupin a day after Arista requested the
blood. He didn't expect the werewolf to be all that enthusiastic over the request, but Lupin surprised him by agreeing to let Severus draw a vial of his blood. They met in the Leaky Cauldron, where Lupin was renting a room.
"What's the harm in it? I've been poked and prodded and dosed by experts and
nothing's ever done any good. Who knows? If she's got half your brains, Severus, she might figure out something that works better than the Wolfsbane Potion. Tell her I'm willing to answer questions for her research, if she wants to do an interview."
"That's very generous of you, Remus."
"Nah. I owe you one, Severus, for last year, and she's your daughter besides. She'll
probably make a great Healer someday."
Snape nodded. "If she continues to apply herself to her studies and not keep half-
drowning herself rescuing mermaids."
Lupin chuckled. "Kids these days. Look on the bright side, Severus. You only have
four more years till she graduates."
"Oh joy," Snape grumbled.
"Ah, the wonders of parenthood." Lupin teased, his eyes sparkling.
Snape shot him a dirty look. "Very funny. Roll up your sleeve," the Potions Master
ordered, removing a syringe from his potions kit.
"Be nice, Severus."
"Quit whining and make a fist, you big baby."
Lupin obeyed, though he barely felt the needle Snape inserted into his vein.
The Potions Master presented the vial of Lupin's blood to his daughter that
afternoon. She thanked him and immediately took the vial into the lab to begin her tests.
She remained in there until evening, but her results were inconclusive, and she
decided to stop working on it before she grew too frustrated.
At dinner that night, Jennika announced she was going to try and draw Nightshade
out of hiding. She would spy on the Crow's Rest again with Colin, and hopefully the elusive witch would make an appearance.
"Somebody must have tipped her off last time, because we waited for hours in that
miserable rain and she never showed." Colin told Jenna irritably.
"Eventually she'll slip," she consoled her husband. "Nobody's perfect and she's out
of familiar territory besides."
"A fish out of water, yeah, I know. Only this particular fish refuses to lie down and die."
Neville, who had been pronounced well enough to come down for dinner, listened
to the two Dark Hunters' discussion eagerly. If his parents hadn't been driven insane by Bellatrix, they might have discussed cases in just such a way. He truly hoped that one day Arista or another doctor might be able to restore their minds. He refused to give up hope that someday his parents would be returned to him.
On his other side, Arista was telling Professor Snape of her new test results. "I tried
mixing a drop of werewolf blood with a drop of Wolfsbane. The potion neutralizes the virus somewhat, but it must have very strong mutagenic properties, because after a few hours it breaks free of the protein wall the Wolfsbane puts up and infects the healthy blood cells again. If only there were a way to strengthen the wall while the virus lies dormant."
"Perhaps a protein-based antibody?" Snape suggested.
"Yes, that might work . . ."
Neville tried to follow their conversation, but they used so many unfamiliar terms
and cryptic references that he was soon lost. They might have been speaking Swahili for all the sense he could make of it. "I don't understand a word they're saying," he murmured, half to himself, feeling even more foolish than usual.
"Don't feel too bad, kid," Colin said from his other side, noticing Neville's utterly
bewildered look. "Those two speak the same language. Incomprehensible to the rest of us ordinary mortals. Genius-speak, I like to call it. It's like a secret language." He eyed Arista fondly. "No doubt about it, she's his daughter all right."
Neville brightened. "I thought maybe it was me, that I was too dumb to figure out
what a "protein-based antibody" was."
Colin patted his shoulder. "You're not dumb, son. I graduated at the top of my class
at the Academy with a degree in criminology and I can barely follow their conversation. Arista's so smart she scares me sometimes. But I guess that's to be expected, with her parents. Someday she'll be famous, and I can say that I taught her kung fu and how to block curses."
"She'd probably be great friends with Hermione, she's in Gryffindor and she knows
everything." Neville said.
"They'd get along like a house afire." Jenna predicted. Then she changed the subject
to a discussion about growing English roses and box hedges and Neville, with his interest in herbology, happily joined in.
* * * * * *
The next morning, both Dark Hunters departed Hogwarts to stakeout the pub where
Nightshade was reputed to visit some evenings. Arista was not concerned when they didn't return for dinner that evening or the next day. She'd been through remote assignments before and she knew that a Dark Hunter spent a good deal of time waiting for a suspect to show up and about five to ten minutes actually capturing the dark wizard.
She was immersed in pursuing her antibody theory in any case, and when she wasn't inside the potions' classroom, she was with Hagrid, learning about obscure breeds of dogs and other animals that dwelled in the Forbidden Forest, or with Madam Pomfrey, demonstrating her healing talent.
The healer-witch was most impressed with Arista's gift, saying she'd never seen it
manifest so strongly in one so young before. "I can mend bruises and cuts without blinking, but I couldn't fix broken bones until I was a fifth-year at least, much less repair damage like that mermaid suffered by myself. You could probably regrow a limb if you had to, by Asclepius!"
Arista didn't know what to say to that, she was embarrassed by the older woman's
praise. Healing came as naturally to her as breathing, she had always been able to do it. She saw nothing remarkable about it, even though her teachers were always going on about how amazing it was.
When the Flynns had first discovered her, she'd been astonished they couldn't heal
like she could. "I thought all magicians could do it."
"Mix up a healing potion, yeah, we can do that, but laying hands on someone or
something and having them get up ten minutes later healed, no. That's a rare ability even among us," Colin had informed her.
It was also an ability half the Dark Wizards in the country would give their right arm
for, which was why her teachers were so adamant about protecting her.
Arista understood their concerns, but lately she was beginning to get a bit annoyed
at their constant vigilance, especially now her father had joined in and seemed hellbent on keeping her safe too.
Sometimes she just wanted to scream at them, I'm not a little baby, I can protect
myself, and I don't need you all hovering over me. If Nightshade wants me, she can come and get me, and I'll kill her just the way she killed my mom. I want the hag dead as much as any of you. She even had an idea that might help them capture the wily witch. It was an insane
idea, and one she knew none of the adults would ever agree with unless they were flat out desperate, but it could work.
Nightshade's preferred MO was holding children hostage, as Arista knew perfectly
well. That was why the witch was lurking in the vicinity of Hogwarts, waiting for an
opportunity to snatch away some unsuspecting student. Except Arista was neither
unsuspecting nor unaware and she was willing to serve as bait for a trap, irresistible bait, given Nightshade's reputation.
But the chances of getting the older magicians to agree to it were so slim as to be
nonexistent. Unless something happened to make them desperate enough to try it, she knew better than to bring it up.
Still, the idea spun round and round in her brain, and always came back to the same
thought. What if it was the only way? Like my mom tracking Slade with her empathy? What if the only way to draw Nightshade out was to offer myself as bait? What would I give to catch my mother's murderer?
Answer: Almost anything.
Sighing, she stuffed that notion in the back of her mind. It was unlikely she'd ever
be called on to act on it, not with two experienced Hunters and Severus Snape all working together to get the dark sorceress.
Far better to concentrate on her virus theory, at least she was making some progress
there. It was harder than she had initially thought, isolating the curse and then making it go dormant permanently. But then she'd known it wouldn't be easy, if it was, they'd already have found a cure and there would be no more werewolves.
Luckily, her other specialty was impossible acts of magic.
* * * * * *
Late that night, Arista was awakened from an uneasy sleep by the sound of voices
down in the Slytherin common room. Something about the tone of their words brought her fully awake, a nameless foreboding sweeping through her. Without pausing to think, she got out of bed and crept soundlessly down the hall, wincing at the chill stone on her bare feet.
". . . .at St. Mungo's They wouldn't tell me how long . . .damn Healers never give
you a straight answer." That was Colin's voice, raspy with anger and something she'd never heard in it before: fear.
She inched forward, peering around the curve of the archway. There was Colin,
pacing furiously up and down the room like a restless tiger, his blond hair slick with rain, his clothes torn and with what looked like scorch marks upon them. His eyes were dark with anger and his jaw tight with tension. His whole being radiated anxiety, anger, and grief.
Something bad's happened. I've never seen him like this before. She glanced around the room, trying to see who he was talking to.
There was her father, seated in the recliner, a book open on his lap. He'd apparently
been reading before Colin interrupted him. There was a glass of juice next to him on the table and a half-eaten apple, he often liked to nibble on fruit while he read. He was looking up at the other wizard, and even from around the corner, she could see he looked grave.
"I'm sure they will do the best they can, Colin. With a spell like that, it can take time
to reverse the effects."
"And if they can't? This isn't some run-of-the-mill standard offensive spell we're
talking about. I don't even know what to call it, and offensive spells are my specialty." He began to pace again. "If they can't reverse it, she'll be stuck like that forever, trapped in a half-life, alive and not alive." His voice trembled, to her horror Arista realized he was on the verge of tears. She had never seen him cry, he was always tough as nails. "I don't know if I could take that . . .seeing her like that day after day . . ."
He muttered several swear words under his breath and glared at the wall.
"I know. I'd be the same if it were Amelia," came Severus' voice, low and filled
with compassion. "If you like, perhaps I can speak with the doctors tomorrow, obtain a more thorough diagnosis."
"Yeah, they'd be more willing to talk to you, a local, instead of her crazy American
husband." Colin laughed bitterly. "I went a little kamikaze on them when I found out they couldn't help her right away. One of the Healers said something like with that level of dark magic, it's impossible to say whether the subject will ever regain normal brain function again, so we might as well just leave it for now and go home. I grabbed him by the coat and slammed him up against a wall. That's my wife, you dumbass, not a blasted lab rat, I screamed in his face. Now quit screwing around and just fix her, got me?" The Dark Hunter shook his head in disgust. "Real professional, huh? I'm a cop, I don't go around assaulting civilians. I'll be lucky if they don't slap me with a lawsuit."
"I doubt that. They'll take into consideration that you were distraught and provoked." Snape said, quirking an eyebrow. "If that idiot had said something like that about my injured wife to me, he would have been through the wall, not just slammed into it."
Colin had stopped pacing now and dropped down to sit on the black leather couch.
"You'd think I'd be used to this, with my line of work, there's always the risk that you or
someone close to you is going to get hurt. But when it happens . . .all the damn preparation in the world amounts to spit. Just the sight of her. . .lying so still . . .It should have been me, damn and blast it! I saw that witch casting—I saw her—but I was a fraction of a second too slow . . ."
"It's easy to blame yourself, looking back on it. What happened tonight?"
"We had Fireflash drop us off at the pub, then we disguised ourselves as part of the
shrubbery with a chameleon spell and we waited. Five o'clock came and went, no
Nightshade. Then we see her—tall, long dark hair with that white streak on the left side, dressed in her typical gray ensemble. We decided to let her go inside, have a few drinks, then arrest her when she came out. Drunk, she'd be an easy target, right? Pity it didn't work out that way."
"What went wrong?"
"Everything. When she finally came out, she didn't act drunk at all, she must have
been sipping mint tea all night. She also came out with a few friends—a troll, a night haunt, and a seedy looking gnome. We hadn't been expecting that, Nightshade's not the type to have companions, but it wasn't anything we couldn't handle." Colin related softly.
"We divided them up. Jenna could take the gnome and the night haunt and that left
the troll and Nightshade for me. Not bad odds, all things considered. We waited until they were about twelve feet beyond the pub, then we Apparated in front of 'em and flashed our badges. That was when everything went to hell in a handcart."
Colin grimaced at the memory. "I iced the troll, no problem, and Jenna hit the night
haunt with a freezing jinx so it couldn't phase and escape. While she was doing that though, the gnome pulled out a fireball launcher—which is highly illegal—and pointed it at her. It was nearly point blank range, no way he could miss. I had to take him out first, and I did, with a Stunning Hex. But that was what Nightshade was waiting for.
"I looked up, saw her grin and gesture at Jenna, I called at her to get down, but it was
too late. Whatever hybrid Stasis-Memory Charm Nightshade hit her with nearly killed her. I threw an Inferio at Nightshade, but she deflected it, then she Apparated and all I could do was pick up Jenna and bring her to the hospital." He gazed up at Snape, a look of helpless anger on his face. Then he continued. "They told me that without the Anti-stasis Potion she'd drank before we got there, that spell Nightshade cast would have finished her. Because Nightshade's spell was also primed to stop a person's heart in addition to freezing time where they stood. So I owe you big time, Severus."
"I only wish it had been enough to counter the entire spell." Snape said regretfully.
"You should have called me when Nightshade came out of there, maybe with the three of us . . ."
"I know, I was stupid. And Jenna paid for my oversight. But at least your potion
kept Jenna alive, and that's all that matters. No one expects you to repel a spell that's been dark-altered, Severus. Nightshade's famous for tinkering with existing spells and turning them deadly. She's pure poison, like her name."
"Did the doctors give you an estimate on how long it would take to cancel the spell?"
Colin sighed. "No. That's one of the reasons I lost it with them, because they
couldn't even give me an answer. Maybe they don't even know an answer, but if that's the case, I wish they'd come right out and say it, instead of treating me like a little kid who's too stupid to have a grown-up conversation." His expression darkened. "I swear, Severus, I'm going to get that twisted witch if it's the last thing I do. Nobody hurts my wife like that and walks away laughing. Nobody."
He stared moodily into the flickering flames of the fire. For a moment, neither man
spoke. Then Colin said, "I could really use a drink. I mean a real drink, not honey wine. Got anything around here?"
Snape pointed his wand at the table and a black bottle and a shot glass appeared on
it. "Firewhisky. Will that do? Albus keeps it on hand for some of his guests who prefer it to wine or fruit juice."
"That'll do just fine, my friend," Colin said, rising and pouring himself a glass of the
potent liquid. "Join me?" he invited.
"No, thanks. I don't touch the stuff." Snape refused, his lip curling in distaste. The
mere smell of the firewhisky conjured up dismal memories of his father, reeking of Scotch or beer, stumbling home at two in the morning, bellowing "Eileen! Open the bloody door before I break it down!" Colin didn't press, simply tossed back the first glass.
Arista, observing unseen from the hall, was shocked. Colin's drinking firewhisky?
But he never drinks that stuff. He calls firewhisky the demon in the bottle, because it's the cause of so many teenagers crashing their brooms and killing themselves. And now here he is, gulping it down like it was water. She watched in disbelief as her teacher poured himself a second shot. Then a third.
After the fourth glass, Snape said quietly, "I think you've had enough, Flynn." He
vanished the bottle and the glass.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Colin demanded angrily, glaring daggers at the
other man. "I was just starting to feel better."
"You'll thank me for it tomorrow," Severus remarked calmly. "One more and you'd
have been on the floor and I'm not about to drag you up a whole flight of stairs."
"You could have just left me on the couch," the Dark Hunter grumbled.
"Not a chance. This is a school, Flynn, remember? How would it look if my
daughter or another student woke up for breakfast and found you passed out in a drunken stupor?"
"You telling me none of your colleagues drink?" Colin scowled blackly.
"Not to excess, or if they do, they do it in private," Severus conceded. He rose to his
feet. "Come, my friend, let's get you in bed. You'll feel better after a good night's rest."
"I'm not tired," the Dark Hunter sulked, sounding like a cranky five-year-old.
"Oh yes you are," Snape said firmly. "You simply don't realize it yet." He took the
other wizard firmly by the elbow and steered him towards the stairs. "No arguments, Colin. Let's go."
Arista whirled and slipped back into her room just as her father began leading the
inebriated Colin up the stairs. She felt sick to her stomach and she threw herself across her bed and sobbed silently into her pillow. She hated Nightshade more than ever now, for she was systematically destroying all that was good in Arista's life. Somehow, some way, they had to stop her.
* * * * * *
Morning dawned gray and cloudy, the perfect compliment to Arista's mood. Colin
and Severus had already left the castle for St. Mungo's, which left Arista free for the
morning to choose her own studies. She tried to rework her Wolfsbane Theory, but kept hitting a snag because she couldn't figure out a way to extend the length of time the potion kept the virus dormant.
Frustrated at her lack progress and angry as well at Nightshade's injuring of Jenna,
the girl indulged in a rare fit of temper, storming about the lab, muttering several nasty
words under her breath, and giving her cauldron a satisfying kick.
Of course, then she hurt her foot, making her even more irritated at her own
stupidity. "Next time I'll just blow a hole in the wall," she hissed, cradling her bruised foot and wishing Nightshade six feet under.
Her temper still sparking, she cleaned up her apparatus, knowing any experiment she tried now would fail because she was too angry to concentrate. She decided to go for a walk, hoping that would cool her temper. She kept recalling the conversation she'd
overheard last night, and imagining poor Jenna—bright lively Jenna who could always make you laugh and who could solve the toughest codes in the cryptographer manual in five minutes—lying like a wax doll in a hospital bed, barely alive. She recalled Colin's helpless frustration, because he could do nothing for his wife but wait and pray she recovered.
Jenna has to get well. She just HAS to, Arista chanted over and over, like a mantra.
Otherwise Nightshade will have taken away my second mother as well as my first, the bloody hag! Hatred bubbled in her, curdling in her gut like an Acid Pop on the verge of exploding. If only there was a way we could get her to come to us, so we could fight her on our own terms. Once again the idea of using herself as bait rose to the surface of her mind.
Crazy as that idea was, it now seemed the only thing left to try.
She drew in a deep breath. Then she walked back and sat on the grass, her knees
drawn up to her chin, staring over the Black Lake. She figured she had about three hours before her father returned from the hospital. Three hours to come up with a reason to convince her overprotective parent that he should use her as bait to catch a killer.
* * * * * *
Professor Snape returned from St. Mungo's that afternoon in the mood to throttle
someone, preferably one of the stiff-necked Healers he'd had to deal with for half the
morning. At first, they'd refused to let him even see Jenna, saying she was still "under
surveillance" whatever that meant. He'd explained to them that he was the Potions Master of Hogwarts, the lady was a friend, and he had considerable experience in removing multiple curse and hexes of this sort.
They hemmed and hawed over whether to accept his help until he longed to shake
them. "Would it help if you got a committee together to discuss it? You could all vote," he said acidly, after they'd left him cooling his heels for two hours in that drab waiting room.
"It's highly irregular, Professor," one of the Healers protested, an older balding man
in his fifties. "Our policy of treatment—"
"Doesn't seem to have gotten you anywhere," he cut in smoothly. "All I want is to
examine Mrs. Flynn, to see if there is a way I can help her. If not, then I will leave her in
your hands. You can even watch, if you wish."
"If something goes wrong . . ." the Healer wrung his hands. "Her husband . . .he's
a maniac . . .he threw Dr. Stubbs into a wall . . ."
"No, Doctor, he's not crazy," Snape said icily. "He's simply frustrated and worried
about his wife and in any case he won't hold you responsible for any treatment I prescribe. He's a friend of mine."
"With a friend like that, who needs enemies?" the Healer muttered. He dithered for
about five more minutes until Snape gave him the same withering look he reserved for students who didn't do their homework and who tried to pretend they had. Then the doctor agreed to let him see Jenna.
He tried several counter-curses first, standard ones. They had no effect. That
woman's good, he admitted grudgingly. He cast a few other spells, attempting to penetrate the stasis field, but only one of them even made a dent in it.
He did manage to touch Jenna's mind, reassuring himself that she was still inside,
that the Memory Charm had not damaged her thought processes. She was sleeping and dreaming, he made sure her dreams were pleasant ones.
"I need to study some more on this," he informed the intern on duty. "I'll be back
tomorrow."
"Won't do any good, y'know," the lanky youth drawled, arrogantly. "Waste of time,
if you ask me. That one's been looked over by the best we've got and none of them can break the curse on her. She'll end up a vegetable, most likely."
Snape stared at him, furious. "Your manners need improving, and if you don't watch
your mouth, boy, I'll shove you through a wall. And this is the caliber of Healer they're
turning out these days? What a disgrace!" The intern gulped and backed away. "I'll be back tomorrow. Good day."
"Crazy . .they're all crazy up there at that school . . ." he heard the intern muttering behind his back.
Snape allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction before informing Colin that
Jenna was not brain-dead, only sleeping. The Dark Hunter elected to stay beside his wife and Severus returned to the school.
As a result of that endless aggravating day, he was in a nasty mood. He decided to
take dinner in his rooms, he wasn't fit company for anyone right then. A house elf brought him up a tray and then departed.
He remained in his rooms, studying all his texts on breaking curses and dispelling
charms. There must be a way to remove the spell Nightshade had cast, he refused to believe there was no counter-charm. And if he couldn't discover it on his own, he would rip it from the witch's mind when they finally caught her.
He paged through several more obscure grimoires until he felt a headache developing behind his eyes and decided to call it a night.
It was then that there came a knock at his door. "Who is it?" he growled.
"Arista. I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"No, come in."
She entered and he shut the book he'd been perusing and looked up. "If this has
something to do with your project, ask me tomorrow, I'm not in the mood to discuss it
tonight."
"It's not about my project. I came to find out about Jenna," she blurted.
"Jenna? How do you know about that?" he asked sharply, narrowing his eyes. "Is
Colin back then from St. Mungo's?"
Arista gulped, wondering if she should act as if Colin was back and that was how she
came to know of Jenna's injuries. But she had an empath's distaste for lies and she knew he could tell if she were lying, thirteen years as a teacher had honed his instincts.
"No, sir. I-I overheard you and Colin talking last night," she admitted, looking him
straight in the eyes.
"I see. Eavesdropping is a very bad habit, you never hear anything good, young
lady," he said frostily. She dropped her eyes to his desk. "Since you already know the
worst, I will tell you that unfortunately, Jenna is no better today than she was last night."
"Can the Healers cure her?"
"I don't know," he answered slowly. Neither do they. "I think I may have found a way to neutralize one of the spells, but I won't know until I cast it."
"Are you going to continue looking for Nightshade?"
"Certainly. What happened to Jenna will not stop us from searching for Nightshade
in the slightest. If anything, Colin is more determined than ever to find her and give her the comeuppance she so richly deserves."
Arista gripped the edge of the desk hard, then said quickly, "What if I told you that
I knew of a way you could lure Nightshade to you? That you could set a trap for her, by
giving her what she wants most?"
Her father was looking at her quizzically. "And what would that be?"
"Me. I mean, we all know she likes to capture children and hold them hostage, right?
So what if we pretended to give her a child, and let her think she could just take me
unnoticed, but when she did, you could spring upon her, catch her off guard and kill her or whatever."
"You cannot be serious!" he said in a terribly soft voice.
"But it could work," she persisted. "It wouldn't be really dangerous, you'd be there
the whole time and—"
"No! Are you insane, to even suggest such a thing?" he yelled, coming to his feet and
looming over her. "That I use my own daughter as bait, that I would take such a risk, even to catch Nightshade . . .Out of the question!"
"But it's a good idea, she'd never suspect it," Arista insisted. "It could be the only way to get her, now that she knows we're on to her, Dad."
"No. End of discussion."
"If you'd just listen to me for a minute—"
"I've heard nothing resembling rational thought come out of your mouth tonight,"
he snapped.
"Only because you won't let me talk," she yelled back. "Don't you want to find
Nightshade, and make her pay for what she's done? She killed Mom!"
"I know that! That's exactly why I don't want you involved in this, young lady! She's
already taken too much from me, I'll be damned if she's going to take you too!"
"That doesn't matter now," Arista cried recklessly. "I'm willing to take that risk, I want her dead, don't you understand?"
Severus drew in a breath, fighting to control his temper. "That's not for you to decide. I won't risk you with her, not now or ever, and that's the end of it."
"Stop treating me like a child! I can protect myself!"
"How?" he sneered. "By behaving like an idiot and throwing yourself in front of a
predator like a bloody sacrificial goat? Now there's a brilliant idea. And here I thought you were smart!"
"Sometimes you have to sacrifice everything in order to win," she threw back at him.
"Not this time, I don't. I'll win another way. Now I think you should go to bed, I've said all I'm going to say tonight."
"You can't just order me to bed like I was five years old," she cried angrily, her chin
thrust out in stubborn defiance.
"Can't I?" he took a step forward, his eyes blazing. "You forget, young lady, I'm your father, and if you behave like a five year old, I'll treat you like one."
"Just because you don't agree with me doesn't give you the right—"
"I have every right," he interrupted. "Now go to bed, child, before I do something
we'll both regret." He held onto his temper by the slimmest of margins.
"Fine!" she turned to leave.
"Lose that attitude, young lady!" he called after her. "Right blasted now."
The door slammed shut behind her. Severus took another breath and stared down
at his hands, which were clenched into fists. "You don't know how lucky you are, you
incorrigible brat. If I were a man like my father . . .you'd be black and blue by now. Of all the stupid ideas! God save me from reckless impulsive teenagers. And they say children are the joy of your life. Ha! Use her as bait . . .She's going to drive me to drink, I swear!" he muttered balefully.
He went to bed cursing Nightshade, for this whole bloody mess was her fault, after
all. Better find her quick, Snape, his inner voice warned. Before your crazy daughter does and gets herself killed. As if I didn't have enough problems, damn it!
Arista pointedly ignored her father all through breakfast, which suited them both,
since neither one wanted to start quarreling in front of everyone in the hall. Arista ate
quickly and then rose to follow Colin out to the courtyard for the daily self-defense lesson.
She noticed the Dark Hunter had large circles under his eyes, apparently he'd slept as badly as she had last night, if for different reasons.
They started with the usual stretches and warm-up exercises, but Arista found her
concentration slipping, and when she missed an easy block, Colin called a halt. "Okay, what's bothering you?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, give. Last time you were this steamed, it was because you caught the
Cullin twins trying to drown kittens in the river. Now, what's got you so upset?" he sat
down on one of the benches to the right of the door, jerking his head for her to sit down.
She did so, scowling angrily. "It's him! He's impossible to talk to."
"By him I'm assuming you mean your father?" Colin raised an eyebrow.
Arista nodded shortly. "Last night I went to him with an idea I had about helping you
two catch Nightshade . . ." she explained her plan, telling the older wizard everything,
especially her father's reaction to it.
"Let me get this straight. You want to use yourself as bait and Severus said no, so
you're mad at him?"
"Well, yes. But he's being so unreasonable, Colin," she began.
"So are you."
"What?"
"Just listen to me for a minute. You think he's being unreasonable because he wants
to protect you, correct?" Arista nodded. "Arista, that's not being unreasonable, that's being a father. All fathers are overprotective of their daughters, no matter how old they get. Now, I know you think you've got this wonderful plan to get Nightshade, but try looking at it from his point of view. Nightshade's his worst enemy, the one who killed his beloved, and now she not only threatens his country, but his only daughter as well. He wants her dead badly, any man would after what she's done. He'd give his life in an instant if it would mean her death. But never yours. You're all he's got, kid, and he's not about to risk losing you. He loves you to pieces, and he's scared to death Nightshade's going to kill you too, like she did Amelia. Then you come along and say you're going to offer yourself up to the Big Bad Wolf, and it's like his worst nightmare just hit him in the face. No way would he ever agree to it. And I can't blame him either. If my daughter tried to do what you suggested, I'd tell her no in two seconds. Not even a question."
"But Colin, Nightshade has to be stopped."
"Yes, you're right about that. And we'll stop her, trust me on that. But we'll do it without sacrificing our children. That's the very last thing we want."
"But what if it's the only way?" she asked in a small voice.
"It isn't. I've been a Hunter a long time now, kid, and I'll tell you right now that I've
never had a situation where I had to resort to a hostage to get my suspect. It's too dangerous, too many things can go wrong. It's my job to protect innocents, not put them in harm's way. Even if they volunteer. Especially if they volunteer," he added with a crooked grin. "But it was a good idea, even if we'd never use it."
"Thanks, Colin. He said I was stupid to even think of it," she added petulantly.
"Hey, give him a break, Arista. It's not easy for him either, trying to be a father to
a half-grown kid. It's not easy for anybody to be a parent, even if you come at it the usual way, much less had it sprung on you the way he did. Your mother told me once that he didn't have a real good childhood, so it's only natural he's gonna try his hardest not to let you get hurt the way he was. He can't help himself. Like I said before, all fathers are overprotective of their daughters. I'd be the same."
"Is that why you never had kids?"
"No. We just, uh, haven't had time. You know how crazy our schedule is. And now
with Jenna hurt . . ."
"She'll get well, Colin. She has to."
"So I keep telling myself. If Severus' potion works, that'll be half the battle right there. The man's a genius with potions, I've never met anyone better."
"Even if he is stubborn as a mountain goat with a tongue like a wasp."
"Sounds like you're describing yourself," Colin grinned.
"I am not!"
The Dark Hunter laughed. "I beg to differ, Miss Snape. But you two are more alike
than either of you will ever admit." He rose to his feet. "Now that we've discussed what's bothering you, it's time to get back to our real lessons. Show me that left cross block again, and this time focus, if you don't mind, Arista-san."
"Yes, sensei." She said, moving into the first stance, her hands held up before her.
Maybe Colin was right, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Then she had no more time to think of her father, she had to concentrate on her teacher, before he broke through her guard and knocked her on her behind in the dirt.