Nothing Is Impossible With Magic

Professor Snape escorted Arista back to St. Mungo's the next afternoon, so she could
fulfill her promise to Neville and heal his parents. With the knowledge Amelia had given her, she could now penetrate the barriers the Longbottoms had placed about their minds and bring them out of their thirteen-year-old prison into the world once more.

Before that, however, she had healed Colin of his concussion and woken Jenna from her sleep. The two Dark Hunters were very grateful for her intervention, but also sorry they'd missed Amelia's big reunion with Nightshade.

"Figures. I always miss the good stuff," Jenna had grumbled good-naturedly.

Then they'd all flown back to Hogwarts on Fireflash.

"I ought to skin you, letting my daughter go running off to face a dark witch like that," Snape scolded the bronze once they'd landed in the courtyard.

"Hey, if I hadn't brought her there, you'd have died," the dragon pointed out.

"Just for that, I'll forgive you. This time."

Fireflash grinned toothily. "Aww, quit complaining, Sev. All's well that ends well." He eyed Arista, who was climbing down from her seat. "Right, kid?"

"Right."

"Who asked you?" her father frowned at her. Then he put an arm around her and they walked into the castle.

Arista was so tired she fell asleep before her head touched the pillow, and she slept
all the way through breakfast the next morning. So did Colin, Jenna, and Severus. When they awoke all of them were ravenous and ate like a pack of werewolves.

Then Snape questioned Arista about the knowledge Amelia had given her. She couldn't explain it very well, it was something an empath knew intuitively. Then he agreed to take her back to St. Mungo's. They had both decided to mention nothing of their visit to Neville until Arista had worked her magic on the Longbottoms.

Now they stood in the waiting room of the hospital, while Snape tried to convince the hospital director to let them upstairs and let Arista try to cure the Longbottoms.

The director was understandably shocked at the request, which was not really a request the way her father put it to him, but more of an order. But somehow Snape managed, Arista never figured out quite how, through a combination of silky reasoning and a few pointed glares, to get the director to agree to allow Arista to try and heal
Neville's parents.

The director led the way to the Longbottoms' room, instructing them that they must be quiet, as most of the patients in this wing were sleeping. The director spoke to the nurse on duty, informing her of the two new visitors. She threw Arista a glance of utter disbelief.

"Is this some kind of joke, Doctor? This—this little girl is going to heal Frank and Alice Longbottom?"

"Um . . .yes, I know it's not the usual thing, but I have agreed to let her try . . ." the director sputtered, growing very red-faced.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of," the nurse snickered. She shut up when Severus glared at her.

"That little girl has more power in her fingertip than you do in your entire body," he told her coldly. "Now keep your comments to yourself, if you don't mind! Come, Arista." He swept past them, cloak swirling, gently pushing Arista ahead of him.

Arista shot him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"Nobody makes fun of my daughter," Snape said softly.

The room they entered was covered in brightly flowered wallpaper, daisies on a sky blue background. It had a thin faded blue carpet on the floor that muffled their footsteps somewhat. There were two beds in the room, side by side, both covered with the same cheerful comforters as the wallpaper. Two blue horsehair stuffed
recliners were in front of the fireplace, which had a brightly crackling fire in the grate. There was also a small table and two chairs.

The room's occupants were still sound asleep, snoring softly. Snape looked at Arista. "Will it be easier if they're awake or asleep?"

"Asleep," Arista said immediately. "Awake they might fight me, this way their minds will be dreaming and it'll be easier for me to wander around in their heads."

"How long do you think it will take?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Twenty minutes, a couple of hours? I've never done this before."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? I can dreamwalk, you might need me. Some of their memories won't be pleasant. In fact, they'll probably be downright terrifying. I could block most of them."

"I know. But this is something only I can do. I'll be all right. Mom taught me how to shield, enough so whatever bad memories are inside their heads won't overwhelm me." She reassured him. He still looked uneasy. She picked up a chair and positioned it directly inbetween the two beds, where she could sit down and touch both Frank and Alice Longbottom comfortably.

"If you're sure . . ."

"I am. Mom told me what to do." She tapped her forehead. "It's all in here. Now, remember, you can't touch me once I start this, Dad. Even if it looks like I'm passed out or screaming or whatever. I've got to come back on my own."

"I know," he said irritably. "I know better than to break a magician's concentration during spellcasting, young lady, who's the teacher here?"

"Just making sure," she said, and gave him a flippant grin. Then she looked at the two sleeping patients and her face became serious, focused. "Well, here goes. Nothing is impossible with magic."

She walked over to the chair between the beds and sat down. Then she took four deep breaths, counting to ten before releasing each one. She closed her eyes. Then she placed a hand upon Alice's forehead and one on Frank's, resting her fingertips lightly on their temples and the middle of their forehead. A soft white glow spread
from her hands down over the sleeping wizards' heads.

Snape dragged over a recliner and sat at the foot of Frank's bed, his hands gripping the armrest so tightly it left marks in his palms. He leaned forward and watched intently, wishing there was something else he could do besides watch. You can't protect her from everything, Severus. This was what she was born to do, she's a
Healer to her fingertips. All you can do is make sure nothing disturbs her, and let her do what she came here to do.

He forced himself to sit back in the chair, though he badly wanted to move about. He stamped that feeling back down and reminded himself to be patient. Amelia would never put their daughter into danger she wouldn't be able to handle. He had to trust
her. And Arista—his beloved, reckless, courageous, little girl. Show them all, child, what a true Healer can do, one for whom nothing is impossible with magic.

* * * * * *
Arista walked through a gray featureless landscape, one in which nothing moved. It was flat, like the Nevada desert, nothing grew there, not even a single solitary blade of grass. The dirt beneath her feet squelched, it was spongy, kind of like a swamp, though the air above was hot and dry. That didn't make sense, it wasn't logical, but
then she knew logic played no part here.

This was the world of Frank and Alice Longbottom's minds, the usual rules didn't apply here. In the landscape of the mind, their whim ruled all. Except me. I walk their memories, but I am apart from them, she reminded herself. That was an important thing to remember, according to Amelia. She must not let herself be drawn into their
world, no matter how real it might seem. She was the empath, her job was to remain apart from their mind, to feel and not feel, see and not see, so she could find where they had hidden themselves.

She continued walking through the gray land, extending her empathic powers out a little bit at a time, like a cat twitching her whiskers. There! Off to the left, was that a flash of light? A tinge of red lit up the gray land. She turned toward it, she could feel
something coming, something running towards her—anger, fear, and hunger.

She shielded, bringing up a hand instinctively to block whatever was attacking her. A red creature with long fangs, a pointed tail, and a barbed whip, trotted into view. It had bat ears and eyes the color of yellow bile. It gave a loud screech when it caught sight of her.

"Hello, pretty. My name is Pain. Want to play?"

It lashed out with the barbed whip.

Arista dodged, the whip sank into the ground with a stunning crack. The creature howled, a dreadful sound.

"No fair! You're to submit to me, not play hard to get!" it cried, lunging at her again.

Again Arista was too quick. She rolled away from the grasping claws. This was part of the defenses the Longbottoms had put up to prevent anyone from finding them. She threw out a hand, summoning part of her empathic gift. "Pain is no stranger to a Healer. I bid you sleep."

She projected waves of healing sleep at the cackling red demon. It screamed, flailing the whip uselessly. "No! Must stop . . .Mustn't let you go!"

"Sleep." Arista repeated, focusing harder. "Your pain is ended."

The demon called Pain writhed, then crumpled up on the ground, unable to withstand her empathic command. Within moments it was sound asleep and Arista slipped past it.

She moved onward, and the landscape changed abruptly. No longer gray and featureless, it suddenly became thick with trees and vines, vines that crept up over her feet and arms, imprisoning her. They had sharp barbs that cut cruelly in her skin. She winced, began to struggle as the creepers wrapped about her, hissing and murmuring.

"There is no escape from me, child. For I am Despair and I shall hold you fast in my tendrils until you wither away and die."

The vines tightened, and the barbs stabbed into her, drawing blood and sending a strange sleepy, burning lassitude through her.

"Sleep, yes, that's right . . .Sleep and forget, forget the world, it doesn't matter . . ." the vines crooned, moving up to cover her neck.

She yawned . . .she was so tired . . .No! What am I doing? I can't go to sleep, this isn't real. She forced her eyes open, glaring down at the vines with their poisoned barbs. This ISN'T real. I will not give into this false comfort . . .She marshaled her power once more, sending it down through the vines, making them writhe and draw away.

"Release me. Hope is the antidote to Despair."

She filled herself with hope, hope that was bright and shining, and allowed it to flow over her, soaking into the vines. "Those who know Hope cannot feel Despair."

The creepers turned black and crumbled away into ash, leaving her free to continue on her way.

She frowned down at herself. She was covered in bleeding scratches and her clothes were torn. She concentrated, using a trickle of her healing gift. The scratches vanished.

Arista took another step. This time she looked out over a black world filled with high jagged spires and rocky outcroppings. The wind blew through the tall peaks, making a terrible screaming sound. Arista put her hands up to cover her ears.

The wind swirled about her, and inside the wind were faces, faces that were horribly twisted and weeping, all of them screaming and shrieking. They reached for her with clawed hands. Their eyes gleamed redly, like fiery coals.

"Come to us, child! Come to us and know the taste of Fear! We hunger!"

Now their mouths gaped wide, displaying fangs the size of her arm. The shrieking howls intensified.

Arista screamed and turned to run. Behind her the Furies screamed in delight.

Never run from what you fear! Her mother's voice echoed in her head. Running only intensifies it. You must look it in the face and then it loses its power over you.

She could feel one of their sharp claws close over her ankle, biting deep into her leg.

She tore free with a howl of pain. "Get off me!" Then she whirled around, both hands coming up. "You want to taste something? Eat this, then! Strength devours Fear!"

She blasted the Furies with a wave of strength, it smashed into them and left them in tatters. "Face what you Fear and Fear is banished!" she chanted, projecting determination and strength with all she was.

The Furies wailed, shrieking so loud she feared her eardrums would explode. But they could not withstand her conviction and gradually their wails died to murmurs until they too were gone and the black land was silent and still.

She fell to her knees, panting and shaking. That last construct had taken more from her than she wanted to give. Her legs felt like molten lead, impossibly heavy. Her head drooped. I'm so tired, so very tired. I want to go home. This is so hard. I don't know if I can do this.

She blinked, rubbing her eyes, they were gritty from the dust the Furies had thrown up. She stared out over the dark land in distaste. She did not want to get up, it felt so nice to sit here.

Giving up so soon, worthless child? A woman's voice laughed, cold and cruel as winter. Want to turn back? Go home, girl, go home and cry to your daddy, just like all the rest of them. Give up, you cannot win. Not even a Healer's touch can defeat Bellatrix Lestrange.

Arista jerked her head up, anger and embarrassment flooding her. Before her stood a tall woman with dark hair and a haughty face with cruel eyes. Her lips curved in a mocking leer. Arista scrambled to her feet. "A Snape bows her head to no one, witch! Especially not to you!"

Bellatrix laughed. Arista had never heard anything sound less like mirth in her life. That's what they all say. Until I go to work on them. After a few hours, they break to pieces. It may take a few days, but eventually they all crack. Even Aurors. Like Frank and Alice. Shall I show you what I did to them, girl? Would you like to see? She lunged forward, and this time Arista was not fast enough. Bellatrix seized her shoulder in a relentless grip, her touch burning like fire.

Arista screamed, as memories of unbearable agony cascaded over her.

* * * * * *
His daughter's scream brought Severus to his feet in one lightning quick lunge, one hand reaching for his wand. Only there was no enemy for him to fight. Arista was still in the chair, her hands clamped over the Longbottoms' foreheads, still glowing with that white light.

Her eyes were closed, but tears now ran from beneath her lashes. She whimpered and moaned, throwing her head from side to side, clearly in agony. But her hands never moved. Frank and Alice were restless too, tossing slightly and whimpering.

Snape took one step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively to hold his child.

Stop! You musn't touch her, remember? He halted just in time, trembling with the awful need to comfort his crying daughter. Even if it looks like I'm passed out or screaming or whatever, I've got to come back from this on my own.

He clenched his hands so tightly his nails cut into his palms. "Fight them, Arista!" he urged. "Don't give up. Fight and win!"

Then he made himself turn away and sit down, a sick helpless feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * * * * *
Did you like my little entertainment, child? Bellatrix said, smirking wickedly. Wasn't it fun? Shall I play like that with you too?

Arista stepped away from the gloating sorceress. "Get lost, Bellatrix. You're not real either. You're just a dream and a memory."

Her shields had remained up during that whole awful session, so although she was forced to watch, she could not truly feel the agony Bellatrix had inflicted on Neville's parents. Which was just as well, for if she had, it would have driven her mad. A part of her had cried and screamed and begged along with the Longbottoms, but the true
essence of herself had remained locked away, safe behind her triple- strength empathic shields, shields Amelia had given her the knowledge to construct.

A memory, am I? I think not! Bellatrix stormed, her beautiful face twisting into a grotesque mask of hatred. Here I am the reality, child. I rule here, not you. "Wrong, Bellatrix!" Arista challenged, drawing herself up to her full height and looking the witch straight in the eye. "You rule nothing, for you are nothing. Nothing but lies and deception. That is the reality. See yourself for what you are, nightmare! The Truth will win always over Lies." She clenched her fists together and cried, "Feel
my power, Bellatrix!"

Then she sent a bolt of unvarnished truth straight into the smirking sorceress.

Bellatrix staggered, going to her knees. "Noo! I AM real! This cannot be!" "Oh, just shut up and die already!" Arista snarled.

Bellatrix vanished after one last howl of defiance.

Arista shook her head. That was the worst thing yet. What's next?
She took a step forward and the black land blurred, reforming into a high stone tower. In the center of the tower was a tall door bound with iron and locked with a thousand locks.

She extended her senses outward, and was rewarded by the touch of two minds in return. They were behind the locked door, safe in their impregnable tower. Or so they thought.

Arista walked up to the door and knocked on it sharply.

"Go away!" a woman's voice called. "We're not receiving visitors today."

"Leave us alone!" cried a man's voice. "We don't want to see anyone."

"Why not?" Arista asked.

"Quit bothering us!" the man's voice sounded again. "We're quite comfortable in here, now go back home and leave us be."

"I can't do that, sir. Won't you open the door and let me in?"

"Why should we do that?" the woman snapped. "We don't even know who you are."

Arista set both palms on the door. "I am Love," she answered. Then she released the last of her shields. A brilliant glow spread outward from her hands.

And the impregnable tower with its iron bound door melted away.

"Love conquers all," she declared softly. Then she stepped forward to take the hands of the plump brown-haired woman in the blue robes and the tall black-haired man in the red robes. "Hello, Frank and Alice Longbottom. You don't have to hide any more. I'm here to take you home. My name is Arista Snape. Won't you come with me?"

"But what about . . . Bellatrix?" Alice hissed, looking about her fearfully.

"And the Furies?" said Frank.

"They're gone. You're safe now. Nothing will ever hurt you like that again." Arista smiled, sending them love and reassurance down the link. "Come on, it's time to go home."

"But we don't know the way," protested Alice.

"That's okay. I do. Just follow me." She tugged on their hands. "This way. You know, your son Neville's been waiting ages to meet you . . ."

The Longbottoms exchanged glances. Then they followed obediently at Arista's heels, as she led them from their prison back into the world once more.

* * * * * *
The woman and the man slowly opened their eyes, seeing their surroundings for the first time. They stared at the unfamiliar room, at each other, and then at the slender girl who was sitting between them, one hand resting lightly on their heads.

Arista drew her hands away and grinned at them. "Welcome back. You've been asleep for thirteen years. Sort of."

"I have?" Alice gasped, staring down at herself.

"Where are we?" asked Frank, sitting up.

"You're in St, Mungo's," Snape answered quickly. "My name is Severus Snape, and this is my daughter Arista." He came over to stand beside her, putting an arm about her.

"You brought us back," Alice said wonderingly.

"But how did you find us?" Frank asked, his brow furrowing.

"I'm an empath. All I did was listen to your hearts." Arista answered simply.

The director burst into the room. "It's been over three hours, if you haven't obtained any progress by now—" he trailed off at the sight of the Longbottoms sitting up and smiling at each other, their eyes lucid and aware for the first time in thirteen years.

He put a hand to his heart. "B-But this is—it's-why it's impossible! All of us have tried for years, and we could never . . . What you did is unheard of, young lady!"

"No it isn't. Look at them," Arista gestured to the Longbottoms. "Nothing is impossible, Doctor, if you believe in magic." She looked up at her father. "Let's go and get Neville, Dad. Then I'm going to sleep for a week."

"An excellent idea," said Professor Snape. Then he picked up his daughter and carried her out of the room. Arista did not even bother to protest. By the time they'd Apparated back to Hogwarts, she was soundly asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.

A/N: So what did you think of this? Does the allegory work? Next up, Arista and Sev return to Spinners End for some much needed father-daughter time.