Chapter Six: A New Mission
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter Universe; that honor belongs to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I thank them for the inspiration, however. Also, this story contains sexual and other adult themes, hence the M rating.
Ophelia stood up as she suddenly felt intensely claustrophobic. She longed to share her knowledge with anyone who would listen and verged on revealing it all to Snape. However, she knew that would be a mistake.
She moved guardedly across the room because her muscles still ached. She released the locks and left through the front door without a word.
Her feet carried her subconsciously towards her favorite place as her mind raced. How had she gotten into this mess? Her only goal in life had been to study magical medicine like her mother and her grandmother. Now, she was burdened with more dark knowledge than most could learn in an entire lifetime.
Until recently, she had managed simply to pretend she had never read the notes or encountered Voldemort. Without her wand, most of the knowledge was useless anyway so she had very little temptation. Instead, she had forced herself to study the texts in her father's library trying to drown out the evils in her head.
She paused and glanced around as she sighed. The creek was babbling peacefully within its banks and the cool May breeze was rustling through the leaves of the willow tree nestled beside it. The sky was a deep shade of violet accented with oranges and reds.
She grabbed the tree's lowest branch and swung her legs onto another nearby branch. There she sat with her legs dangling free and her head resting against the willow's trunk as the breeze blew through her robes. She stared into the passing water, concentrating on the colorful sky reflecting in the ripples and struggled to rid her mind of her many worries.
She sighed again. It had been the appearance of Professor Snape that had caused her to be reminded of all she was unfortunate enough to possess. His curiosity had fostered her own, but even more so, his presence meant a potential end to her incarceration and an opportunity to finally destroy the notes. That was if she would be able to convince the former Death Eater to assist her while refusing his desire to learn the secrets for himself.
It would be difficult, but as much as she wished to share her burden, she knew the fewer eyes that saw the notes the safer this World would be. She had already witnessed the corrupting influence of the Dark Arts in many, and a wizard like Snape should not be tempted in such a way.
Ophelia glanced away from the water. She could feel the Professor's presence nearing. He approached her quietly and stood next to the willow, leaning against the trunk. His eyes met hers, and he gave her a questioning look.
"I'm fine. I just needed to reenergize and clear my head." She took a deep breath of the crisp air and closed her eyes.
"It's been four years…" she said suddenly. "Four years since I've been beyond that fence line. I should be a licensed healer by now." She felt a gentle hand on her leg and her eyes met his again.
"All is not lost, Miss Dyson."
She immediately felt guilt for being so selfish. So many good people had died. She had no right to be whining about how unfair life had been to her. Besides, now it was her time to make a difference. She must ensure the destruction of the notes by whatever means necessary.
She looked around; the sun had almost set. She glanced back at Professor Snape and smiled. Tomorrow her mission would begin, but tonight she had other plans. She reached her hand to take Snape's shoulder as she dropped to the ground in front of him smoothly despite her sore muscles.
She inhaled deeply again. Nothing recharged her more than being surrounded by the elements; the air in her hair; the earth under her feet; the sound of the water below; and the fire of the magical pulse within it all.
"You are right. All is not lost, Professor." She leaned in and stood on her toes as she kissed him eagerly. His arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her into him, and his tongue pressed between her lips. He then pulled her legs up around his waist. She felt the wood of the willow tree against her back. She kicked off her shoes and crossed her ankles behind his back as she reached for the buttons of his robes. She pulled away from his feverish kisses and moaned in his ear. "I want you now, Professor."
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"With pleasure!" The Potions Master bellowed back as his hands reached for the closure of his pants. Ophelia's lips crashed into his again as her fingers stripped him of his robes. She smelt incredible. The thought of taking her in the twilight against the willow was intoxicating. He reached between them to pull her robes open from the waist down and to untangle her legs from his body just long enough to rid her of her leggings and panties.
With the trunk of the willow supporting her weight, he grabbed her soft fleshy breast with one hand and dropped his pants with the other. He could feel her heat against his thigh he pressed her harder against the tree.
She squirmed under him as he slowly pushed into her body. She moaned into his mouth as he sunk her weight onto him completely and then pulled away. His mind blanked to everything except the feeling of her muscles tightening around him, her breasts pressed against his chest, and her tongue roaming his mouth. He continued his thrusts, and her sounds of pleasure increased. He loved being able to manipulate her body like this, and he felt his orgasm start to build.
His young lover was writhing wildly with her hands in her dark locks, and her eyes closed tightly. Soon he felt her body tremble and shudder as she pulled him tightly against her with what could only be called a squeal. Moments later his own body shuddered as he emptied himself into the panting witch with a grunt.
He stroked her hair as they breathed deeply in unison, with matching sated smiles on their faces. He kissed her lips softly as he lowered her back to the ground and picked a leaf from her tangled hair with a half smile. She was lovelier now here in the moonlight than ever.
She laughed as she buttoned her robes again and picked up her discarded clothing. Snape still could not believe he had claimed such a beauty. Even if the arrangement was only temporary, he was grateful that Fate had given him such a treasure. He pulled up his pants and gave her a curious look. At least he would not die a virgin.
She walked barefoot back to the cottage, and he admired her form beneath the night sky's glow as he followed behind her. He wondered then how much longer this physical relationship would last. Surely she would move on from him once he gave her what she wanted, or perhaps sooner. He sighed.
She waited for him at the doorway. Once he was inside, she locked the three locks and stared at him. "Would you ward the doors tonight?" He could see the fear on her face. He didn't blame her. He could not imagine what pains being without magic truly meant. He nodded in response to her as he made a smooth turn on his heel to face the door.
He could feel Ophelia's eyes on his back as he worked the spells. He cast his favorite locking spell, one that could only be released from the inside, as well as a protection spell that would cause him to wake if anyone approached the area near the cottage. "That should be sufficient," he mumbled as he lowered his wand and stepped back from the door.
Then he watched curiously as the witch flourished her arm in the air. He recognized the symbol – Algiz – the ancient rune for protection. It seemed a silly gesture, especially without a wand, but he decided to humor her by tracing the path of her fingers with his wand, leaving a glowing trail momentarily.
She gave him a grateful smile and a gentle squeeze on the arm which he found strangely rewarding. Then she turned swiftly and headed towards the bedroom. He stood there awkwardly not sure whether to follow or take leave of her for the evening.
"I am planning a hot bath before bed. Care to join me, Professor?" She gave him a wicked smile and continued through the doorway.
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The unlikely lovers awoke early the next morning to the smell of omelets and potatoes. Ophelia gave the professor a contented smile as their tired eyes met. It had been a most enjoyable, if not exhausting night. Wandering hands in the warmth of the bath had been just the beginning. She did not complain, however, because her excitement about the upcoming day had stolen any thoughts of sleep from her anyway. Eventually, however, in the early morning hours, fatigue overtook the pair. Finally, her day of freedom had arrived.
She quickly climbed out of bed, overflowing with excitement and headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower. As she bathed her sore muscles, her mind flitted from thought to thought randomly. Between being free from her house arrest, regaining a wand, and finally being able to make progress on her mission to destroy Voldemort's notes, she could not focus her mind or her energy on much of anything for longer than several seconds. Even as the Professor joined her in the shower, her mind drifted elsewhere. They said nothing to one another as they bathed. His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere as well.
They emerged silently from the shower and quickly dried themselves before returning to the bedroom to dress. At last, Ophelia's mind joined her body. She felt an odd tension in the air and decided to break the silence. "What are the plans, Professor?"
He stared at her for a long moment, and then she felt the tension break as he spoke to her. "First, I suggest you gather the notes from wherever you have them stored. We should not leave them unguarded."
She nodded.
"Then we will work on lowering the spell that keeps you here. From there we can make our way to Diagon Alley, I suppose. Once you have a wand in your possession, we can plan further."
She nodded again as her heart raced anxiously. Today would be her last day as a prisoner. "Let's get some breakfast."
They moved to the kitchen and ate their meal quickly and quietly. Occasional glances were their only communication. Ophelia knew Snape was as anxious as she was, but she wondered what was going on behind those dark, clouded eyes. She found herself frustrated. Today was the day she had waited four years to come, and now she was more interested in someone else's inner turmoil instead. Her sense of his energy gave her only hints of the conflicts occurring behind the silence, which soured the moment further.
Finally, she could tolerate the silence no longer. If she was going to trust this man, she needed to understand him. "Why are you helping me, Sir?"
"Does it really matter, Miss Dyson?" His tone was slightly harsh, annoyed even, although she had known worse.
"Yes. It does actually. If I retrieve the notes, I have to trust you not to attempt to take them or read them." She forced eye contact despite her discomfort.
"I must admit to being tempted," He paused with a sigh as he set down his fork. "That is precisely why I have not asked about their whereabouts." He paused again, breaking eye contact. "You should not trust me. I do not trust myself…"
She swallowed hard; shocked by the openness she had just received. She then nodded slowly.
"However, I agree that the notes must be destroyed." He looked away from her then, and she understood that he was admitting his weakness to her. She almost regretted questioning him now as he confirmed that part of the mission to destroy the evil writings would be to keep them away from the only person willing to help her.
She stood up from her chair finally. "Shall we?" He stood as well, and the two left through the front door. She did not fear leading Snape to the hiding place because she knew that as long as he did not know its secret he would never be able to find the place again.
"Follow me," she said softly and led him around to the side of the cottage. She silently counted steps and watched for minute landmarks as they moved through the grass. Then it became clear to her; the old well that sat several meters away from the cottage in the lowest section of the property.
She smiled as she noticed Snape seemed oblivious to their destination, and she hoped he had not caught on to the secret. When the well became clear to him, he never let on a hint of surprise, not even when they came to a halt in front of the old stone structure.
Ophelia dropped the bucket into the well and waited to hear it hit the water as Snape watched without expression. "My great grandfather became paranoid in his old age that someone was trying to poison his water supply so he hid the well. Now it can be only found by those who know where to look." She jumped onto the stones and grabbed hold of the rope as she kicked off her shoes. She began to descend down the rope. "Wait here."
She climbed into the damp darkness until she was about halfway to the bottom. Then she reached out stroking the damp stone wall until she felt a section of perfectly smooth surface. She tapped three times, and the stone slid away revealing a hidden shelf on which sat a nondescript worn looking satchel. She threw the satchel over her shoulder and climbed back up the rope to the awaiting wizard above. He chivalrously extended a hand to help her from the well as his eyes glanced at the leather bag at her side.
"Rather anticlimactic, I know." She smiled as she pated the satchel.
"On to our next order of business then, I suppose." He responded and she nodded as he strode past her towards the fence line. She laughed to herself as she though of the fear those billowing black robes had once caused her. How things change…
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Snape marched faster than usual. He was on a mission – a mission of distraction. How easy it would be to overtake the girl and gain possession of the secrets she carried; how simple and how tempting. He was not even exactly sure what was stopping him. Perhaps it was the fact that he knew he would never destroy the powerful writings if left to his own devices. Perhaps it was because he preferred to keep the company of this mysterious witch for now. Or perhaps even he had finally tired of those ways. The reason did not really matter to his so much as he was able to resist.
When he reached the fence line he turned swiftly as he noticed Ophelia no longer followed. Instead, she was standing several meters away watching him, hands rubbing her wrists. He moved closer to her. "Hold out your arms," he commanded and she obeyed. He placed the tip of his wand against her wrist. "Revealo," he whisperer and glowing green magical shackles appeared around the girl's wrists and ankles, and her eyes widened as se stared at him. "Interesting…" he mumbled as he considered his options.
He tapped his wand on the restraints and whispered, "Finite Incantatem."
"Ahh!" Ophelia exclaimed with a flinch, but the bonds did not move. "Try again…" she begged.
"Abduco!" Nothing. He waved his wand precisely above her wrists. "Expeditum." Still nothing. He was quickly becoming frustrated. This process should have been straightforward for a wizard like himself. He cursed to himself.
"Do you recall anything about the spell your father used to create these bonds?" He asked hoping a clue may reduce the number of options for reversing the magic as the trial and error method could take all morning. He was anxious to leave this place. He had a knowing sense that other Death Eaters would soon be searching for the hidden notes, and he did not want to be around when they arrived.
"He drew blood…" she whispered as she demonstrated a cutting motion on her left palm and her eyes locked onto his. "And placed it into a vial of some sort of potion. I am quite sure it was dark magic."
He nodded slowly. It was indeed dark magic, but he knew of the spell. It was once used in Azkaban to keep prisoners from escape. "Are you restricted by the fence line all the way around your property?"
"Yes. I've walked it many times looking for a weakness." She was still staring at him with a fierce intensity. She must be worried that he would fail to free her.
"Wait here," he ordered as he strode back to the fence. At the nearest fence post he pointed his wand and commanded, "Revealo." As he suspected a red "X" momentarily appeared near the base of the post and then faded. He nodded and returned to where the anxious witch stood.
"It is a complex spell that would be time consuming to completely reverse." He saw her face sink with emotion. "But…" he watched as her eyes widened. "I think we can create a passage to the other side. "Eventually perhaps we will have the luxury of time to undertake a full reversal." Ophelia nodded, eyes still wide. He was tempted to touch her but decided against the idea. They did not have time for that nonsense now. "I will require more blood."
"Of course," she whined and rolled her eyes as she dug into her satchel. "Bloody dark magic…pun intended." Snape was actually surprised to find she had a small blade and several empty potion vials tucked away in the pockets of her satchel. It was probably her old school bag.
She handed him one of the vials as she removed the blade from its sheath. She pressed it into the flesh of her left palm, wincing slightly. Then she raised her palm over the vial, and he watched as her blood trickled into it, drop by drop. He could not take his eyes from the crimson fluid now filling the vial in his hands. As a potions master he knew the power present in a being's blood and watching Miss Dyson so freely give him access to such power was captivating his thoughts. Was she aware how dangerous this action could be for her?
After a few moments he capped the vial. "That will be sufficient," he reluctantly stated. Then he took her palm in his and waved his wand over the damaged surface. He watched as the bleeding slowed and then stopped and the edges closed leaving only a reddened ridge.
"Thank you." Her fingers caressed the newly healed skin. Then she looked up at him and smiled.
He simply nodded as he turned smoothly back towards the fence. He stopped midway between two posts and uncapped the vial. He tipped the tip of his wand into the precious fluid and then raised his wand as high as he could reach, drawing an "X" in the air. "Confinium,"he whispered and a red glowing "X" flashed at the point above his wand. Satisfied, he turned towards Ophelia. "Come, Miss Dyson." He beckoned her closer with a motion of his hand.
He watched as she approached him apprehensively, but she showed no signs of pain. A smile slowly grew on her face as she approached. "What do you feel?"
"I can feel the weight of the spell but no pain." Her pace increased over the last few steps.
"Continue." He waved her past the fence line and watched as she ducked through the beams that made up the wooden boundary.
She started to jump up and down on the other side of the fence. "It worked!" She cheered as her hair bounced over her shoulders.
He nodded. "Had you're a broomstick you probably could have flown over the boundary with little issue."
He was surprised as her excitement faded and her expression drooped again. "You are kidding, right?!" Her tone was demanding and irritated.
He shook his head as he eyed her curiously. "Not at all. The magic does not work below the points so your father cast it at ground level but it probably only extends around 4 to 5 meters above the ground. The spell is not ideal for outdoor use."
"That Bastard!" She yelled, and he was actually taken aback for an instant as he tried to understand her anger. He raised an eyebrow as she gestured towards the barn. She was practically in tears. "My father's old broom is in the barn." She paced along the fence with her fists tight with anger.
"You must think I am a fool not to consider such an option." She wiped her face with the sleeve of her robe. "He did this on purpose. I know it! I am completely terrified of flying. He is punishing me even now for not being willing to overcome that fear." She let out a frustrated noise and spoke to the sky. "I am sorry I was never a damn Quidditch star, Father, but must you be so cruel?!"
Now Snape remembered Ophelia's father had been a star keeper for the Slytherin House while he had been at Hogwarts. "Well Miss Dyson, it is all moot now anyway, but I doubt it was all less of a punishment and more simply an advantage in his favor. Trapping you on the property certainly outranks sealing you in your bedroom for four years." He dismissed the subject with a motion of his hand.
"Shall we focus on the task at hand?" He stepped gracefully over the fence to join her. "Do you have everything you need?" She nodded and he held out his arm. "Since a broomstick seems to be out of the question," he teased with a half smile and received a bitter glare in return. "I suggest we apparate instead." She took his arm then and they disappeared with a small "pop."
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After several apparitions they landed in a quiet alley in London and Ophelia peeled herself away from the death grip she had on the professor. She had forgotten the squished-together discomfort of apparating. She winkled her nose in disgust. Then she took a deep breath and smiled widely as she was overtaken by the strong pulse of magic all around her. "It is good to be back!" She took another deep breath.
Snape was already on the move, waving his wand around him as he strode. She jogged to catch up. Soon they entered the busy hustle of Diagon Alley and disappeared among the crowds. They walked silently towards Ollivander's, but she could sense that the powerful wizard was on high alert beside her, and that made her anxious as well. She was relieved when they finally entered the shop of the old wand maker. Snape whispered something under his breath, and she then realized that they had been using a disillusionment charm.
Ollivander's was exactly as she remembered; and she remembered it vividly even though it had been so many years ago. She stared wide eyed at the rows and rows of boxes filled with wands, each unique as she wondered which she would claim today.
"Hello Miss. What can I do for you?" The wand maker's voice called out to her from among the shelves.
"Mr. Ollivander, Sir. My name is Ophelia Dyson and…" she was interrupted as the old man appeared from the shelves.
"Ahhh, Miss Dyson. I was wondering when you would return. I received our broken wand from your mother over four years ago I believe…"
Ophelia nodded; her mother had owled the broken splinters and unicorn hair back to the wand maker in hopes that it could be repaired.
"There was no hope for repair, but I did salvage the unicorn strand and was able to place it into a new wand. Would you like to have a look?" His eyes sparkled as he smiled at her.
"Yes! Of course!" Her excitement was clear in her voice despite attempts to control herself. She could feel Snape's cold stare on her backside.
"One moment…" the old artisan disappeared among the shelves again.
"Stop pacing, Professor. You are making me nervous." She said as she turned towards the wizard. He stopped beside her with a look of annoyance on his face.
"It has been over a week since the end of the war and Lucius has been the only Death Eater to come searching for the notes. Others will soon pursue them as well." He said quietly as he glanced at the doors and then back at her.
"Very few people know they were in my father's possession," she whispered back.
"Ahhh, here we are…Oh Professor Snape…I did not see you there." Ollivander gave him a suspicious glare which Snape returned.
"Anyway, Miss Dyson." He flipped open the wand box with a smile. "Ten inches, flexible, willow wood with your original unicorn tail hair. This wand is excellent for charms and the engravings are..."
"Exquisite…" she whispered as her fingers caressed the elegant designs. The wand hummed beneath her touch.
"Thank you, Miss. Celtic and Nordic healing symbols. Would you like to try it out?" The wand maker encouraged and Ophelia blissfully obliged. She took the beautiful wand from its case and balanced it in her palm. It felt perfect.
"It is even lovelier than the original, Sir." She admired the craftsmanship before she gave it a gentle flick. The wand eagerly responded with a trail of golden sparks that scented the room of rose water. Her pleasure was short lived however, as she felt Snape's inpatient glare upon her.
"Perfect," Ollivander mumbled as his eyes glanced between her and her companion slowly.
"I will take it." The shop owner nodded and quickly prepared the wand for purchase. Soon the wand had been paid for and was safely tucked within her robes. As they left, Ophelia paused, leaning into Ollivander as she whispered, "It would be wonderful if no one ever knew we were here." She gestured towards the Potions Master.
"But of course," he gave a knowing wink and smiled, but she sensed his suspicion and curiosity.
"Thank you for your discretion, Sir." She smiled sweetly to the old wizard as they walked out, and Snape gave her an approving glance as he waved his wand around them.
"Where to now, Professor?" She asked as they both glanced around cautiously.
"Somewhere quiet with something strong to drink so we can sit and think."
"To the Leaky Cauldron then?" She laughed as he gave a nod.
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A/N: I love you all for putting up with me this long. Please leave feedback if you are so inclined. Thanks!