Chapter Nine: A Haunting Discovery

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.

He had no idea what he expected to find as he stepped from the fireplace. Once he realized he had been lured out of his house on false pretenses, he knew Ophelia was in grave trouble. His wand was drawn, and his heart raced.

He surveyed the sitting room. Books were everywhere. His heart sank. Where is she? His eyes darted about madly searching for a clue. The door was closed and locked as were all the windows. It was impossible to apparate in or out of Spinner's End. Snape moved slowly into the kitchen, his senses on high alert.

His kitchen was also in disarray. The cupboards had been emptied. Books were open on the table with parchment covered in ink splatters and scribbled notes nearby. Edlyn was in the corner attempting to bring some order to the chaos. She looked up, startled when he entered.

"What happened here?!" He demanded. His emotions were getting the better of him which further infuriated him.

The frightened house elf let out a scared little yelp and then said, "She's gone mad, Master Snape. Tearing up the house. Scribbling strange spells. Yelling 'get away from me! Leave me in peace! Make it stop!'"

Snape swallowed hard. What could she mean? What had happened to his young lovely lover? And more importantly, when had he become so attached to the girl? "Where is she?" The house elf pointed to the hidden stairs, and he bounded up them.

He found Ophelia sitting at the top of the stairs whimpering with her hands over her ears and her knees drawn into her chest. Her robes were a mess as was her hair. Her face was tear-stained, and her skin looked sickly pale. He approached her slowly, "Miss Dyson?"

She did not respond.

He reached out and touched her shoulder. "Ophelia?"

She looked up at him; her eyes were cold and dim. He sat next to her and pulled her body close to his. She was stiff and chilled to the touch. 'What happened?"

"Make it stop…" she whispered. He then noticed the blood on her robes.

"Ophelia, what have you done to yourself?!" He grabbed the witch by the shoulders and began frantically searching her for injury, fearing the worst. He was in shock when he pulled up her sleeves to reveal the ancient runes carved deeply into her beautiful porcelain skin up and down both arms. The hideously inflamed markings oozed blood.

Snape took his wand and mumbled healing spells as he waved it over he wounds. Why had she done this to herself?

He stood up, picked her up, and brought her to the bedroom. She was still whimpering and now began to tremble in his arms. He laid her onto the bed and watched as she curled into the fetal position. He kneeled beside the bed watching her intently. She was mumbling under her breath, but he could not understand. It was almost as if she was having a conversation with someone, but no one else was there.

"No, I won't do it," he heard her say defiantly.

"Won't do what, Ophelia?" Snape begged for some response as he took her hands in his. Then he pulled away suddenly as he felt a familiar twinge in the marking on his forearm. His mind drifted as he tried to remember if he had seen the notebook or Ophelia's satchel when he had returned.

"Where is the book?!" His eyes gleamed as his voice rose suddenly unconsciously. A cold chill settled over him.

Ophelia stopped her mumbling then and stared at him. Her eyes were filled with fear and hate. "It is gone. No matter though. It is useless now." Her voice echoed strangely in his head.

"What do you mean? Have you destroyed it?" He reached out and touched her head gently. He stroked her hair. Feeling useless was not something to which he was accustomed, but at that moment he had no idea what to do for her.

"No, but its secrets are safe," she paused and appeared to be wrestling with herself. "Lucius has the book, but I control its power. It belongs to me alone." She grabbed his arm suddenly and pulled back his sleeve. Her fingers caressed the Dark Mark sending stinging pains through his being.

He pulled away, panic stricken. How had she gained power over the Dark Mark? Why would she desire such power? Why did Lucius have the notes? What was she planning?

As he watched her, her demeanor suddenly changed, and her eyes filled with tears. She sat up in the bed and met his stare. "Severus, please help me. I feel your fear, but please do not le…" Before she could finish her sentence he took her in his arms and held her close. She sobbed against him.

"Please tell me what is going on?"

"It's too much power. I cannot handle it. Just too much…I don't want it…" She trailed off and began mumbling again. Soon she was asleep in his arms. As he laid her down on the bed he whispered, "Damn you, Fate!"

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Ophelia's dreams were once again plagued by ominous images. She awoke many times and every time Snape was at her side. No matter what malicious, hateful comment her torment inspired her to make to push him away as she felt her sanity slipping from her, he still remained. Thank the gods he still remained…

Each time she closed her eyes evil spells were cast in her head. Her power was tingling, longing for her to whisper the words that would release it as she felt as though cold fingers were clamping down on her throat making it difficult to breathe. "You are the Master now. You have nothing to fear. You are untouchable. Let the power be your guide. Give in to it. Give in." The dark voice whispered nonstop.

When she awoke to find Snape once again at her side, she tried desperately to tell him what was happening, but she could not gather her own thoughts over the haunting voice's screams.

"Tell me, Ophelia. Let me help you." His eyes were wide, filled with fear, confusion, and frustration.

"It's too much," was all she could say to the desperate wizard and that came out in screams and tears. She rocked back and forth on the bed, hugging her knees close, trying to comfort herself.

Snape sat on the bed next to her and pulled her close against his body. She clung to the little bit of sanity remaining in order to resist the urge to push him from her as more hateful words ran through her mind.

Her newly trained ability was reading him like a book, and she tried to focus on the fact that he was finally beginning to realize he cared for her. She knew he still was wrestling with the entire concept and had not yet admitted his true feelings to even himself, but there was no denying what she sensed deep within.

"Do not be afraid, girl. This is your destiny. Give in to it. The power is yours. You have what other only dream of. Why do you resist?" The voice was eating away at her fragile nerves. "Stop resisting!"

"Just imagine the power. Imagine an army of power surrounding you at your command" Images of masked Death Eaters cloaked in darkness invaded her thoughts. To her dismay, she found the concept the slightest bit appealing. There were so many Death Eaters she wished to take revenge on for destroying her family.

"Yes, think of the revenge you could have. How sweet it would be to have the last laugh." She knew then that the owner of the menacing voice had finally penetrated her mind. Her resistance would soon fall, she feared. The voice was becoming harder and harder to ignore. Sounds of tortured screams filled her ears. The final scream belonged to her mother.

Her fists clenched in rage. How dare he manipulate her in this way! She fought to push him from her mind, but his powers were too strong. He continued to flood her with dark images of unstoppable power making the magic within her throb for release. Restraining herself was becoming almost painful.

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Snape awoke as Ophelia grasped his face forcefully and stared into his eyes with a dark, frightening intensity. Her thoughts were practically jumping into his head as he fought his urge to pry. But she held the stare until a look of desperation crossed her face. Suddenly, Snape realized that she was demanding he invade her mind.

"I can't. I mustn't!" He said softly, but she did not turn away. She looked as though she was attempting speech, but the thoughts were not there to support it. Her frustration was evident. Then she leaned in and kissed him, deep eyes still wide, locking onto his.

She had broken through his last shred of resistance. He needed to do something to end her suffering, but he could do nothing until he understood the cause. It was the only way.

Snape pulled away from the needy lip-lock and whispered the words he knew she was waiting for, "Legilemens."

They both gasped, and his mind was filled with her thoughts. He searched his way through the battle currently taking place between herself and a strange sinister tormentor. "Guide me," he thought and hoped she had studied the Occlumency in the text he had given her.

A flurry of images passed through his mind; her mother's face; the willow on her property; an airport; large foreign-looking, towering buildings; an American subway; Ollivander's; the doorway to the Hufflepuff dormitory; a Quidditch game; the streets of Hogsmeade; kissing a dark-haired Slytherin boy; one of the Weasley twins scantily clad; a suave-looking blond teenager also scantily clad; himself nude on her bed.

Then the flurry slowed, and the next vision to fill his head was a typical first day of first year Potions Class. The anxiety in the room was palpable. The room was silent save his own rehearsed speech, "Bewitching the mind and ensnaring the senses…."

He saw then in his mind's eyes a horrid image of Ophelia taking the small blade from her satchel and drawing it across her beautiful, creamy skin as tears poured from her eyes. She was mumbling protection charms as she gouged the runes across her forearms and watched as the blood trickled. Her desperation echoed loudly in his head.

The scene quickly morphed and a bloodcurdling scream almost took his breath away. Gwendolyn Dyson lay dead on the floor of the family's kitchen as Ophelia and her father were slumped in opposite corners crying. Two masked Death Eaters laughed coldly and quickly disappeared.

Again the scene shifted. It was the same kitchen, but this time it was Gwendolyn crying in the corner as Ophelia begged on hands and knees for her father to stop. He shook his head. "It is for your own good, I'm afraid. Someday it will all make sense. I promise you." He snapped the willow wand over his knee and Ophelia's eyes were wide with horror as the iridescent white unicorn hair fell to the ground. "Try not to mourn this temporary loss of power. The world has bigger plans for you."

Snape found himself in the kitchen yet again, the table full of familiar Death Eaters. The image of Ophelia's father was replaced by the Dark Lord himself. His dark essence was loudly ringing in Snape's ears "…Your beauty will be my reward," he hissed. Grotesque images followed by a wave of nausea came over him. "Now, now, you will get used to it." He watched as Ophelia vomited violently.

And then the kitchen was empty except for Ophelia sitting at the table. She had a stack of parchment in front of her and he could feel a glow of evil emanating from it. He also recognized the look of temptation in the girl's eyes as she placed her palm on the first page and whispered, "Apparecium." Words appeared under her palm. It was the Dark Lord's Grimoire.

She flipped through the pages and Snape took in the words hungrily. This was, after all, what he had been seeking all this time. The memory started to fade, but Snape pressed deeper, temptation over-ruling him. He read as she read; Unicorn blood; Philosopher's Stone; Horcruxes; Prophecies; the ghost plane; Raising the Dark Mark; the Unforgivables; Fiendfyre; even his own entry, Sectusempra.

He tried to dig deeper. There were so many questions he had. How had the Dark Lord used Harry Potter to rejuvenate his physical form? How had he cursed his journal to possess that Weasley girl? Could he remove the Dark Mark? What was written of Lily's murder?

But Ophelia had other plans, and he felt her resisting his further probes. His head was once again invaded by the strange conversation between Ophelia and the familiar male voice.

"Use the Dark Mark. Call them to you, Dear. Get your revenge. You could destroy them all. You have the power. Think of the power."

"I won't. I won't" Ophelia screamed over and over.

"Ophelia, I apologize. Please show me more," he whispered and gently squeezed her shoulders as their eyes remained locked.

Another flurry of images ran through his mind; the Yule Ball as she danced with one of the Durmstag students, his eyes full with lust and his hands edging ever lower down her back; a painful fall from her broomstick during first year; petrified students in the hospital wing at Hogwarts where she worked with Madam Pomfrey; O.W.L.s; a lifeless Cedric Diggory at the Twiwizard Tournament; her recent twisted dreams; first year potions class again, "bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…"

He saw her then, outside of Spinner's End, wand aimed at Lucius. She watched as she turned over the notebook. He observed her fiery phoenix and was astonished at her control of such power. She ran then, disarming Lucius. He witnessed her protection charms and tortured tears in his sitting room. Finally, he heard the voice echo in her head, "Now, now, you will get used to it…"

His spell ended as reality sunk in, and her mind closed to him. He raised his wand and whispered as a shielding spell rose around them.

Ophelia's eyes widen as she glanced around the room. "It's quiet," she whispered and took a deep, cleansing breath.

"Yes." He stared at her for a long moment wondering how she remained so innocent looking despite everything she had been through. "You are being haunted."

"It is him, The Dark Lord." Her hand brushed against his forearm and Snape resisted the urge to pull away as the Mark burned beneath her fingertips. "He wants me to call them. He is possessing me, taking control slowly, invading my mind, wearing down my resistance, and filling me with darkness. I can't take much more!"

"It is not true possession really, but you are correct; he is trying to corrupt you. He is using his influence on you to accomplish something, but I am not sure what. Did you read anything about this in the notes?"

She shook her head. "There were a great many entries about ghosts, possession, and haunting, but I have no idea what he is hoping to achieve by this. I don't want to be part of this anymore!" He voice was full of despair.

"We are past the point of no return, I am afraid." Her eyes filled with tears but none fell. He had a feeling he understood what was going through her mind. When the silence became unbearable he said, "To call the Death Eaters is a powerful magic. If you succeed…"

"I know," she whispered. "But…"

"It may be the only way to get the book back." He finished knowing what she couldn't bring herself to say aloud.

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He was right. Lucius would be putty in her hands if he thought her the next all-powerful dark leader. She couldn't really be the successor, right? Why would he choose her? But she knew why; it was her ability. She had seen reference to Hecatius Acceptum in the notes but hadn't understood it at the time. He must have singled her out because of that.

She felt Snape's gaze on her. She shifted uncomfortably. "You were right. I was a fool to think myself above the temptations of such power. I never should have read the notes! It's a damned how-to book for the next dark ruler. I do not wish to be that."

"But we need the book back now, and you can get it back. If Lucius believes you to be the heir of which it speaks then…"

"I know – putty in my hands."

He nodded. "You should give in to it, Ophelia. I have a plan to stop this once and for all. I believe the book's power is directly entangled with the ghost of the Dark Lord. There is only one way to truly fight a ghost, but if I am successful the book will be fallible, and we can do as we please with it." His voice was low and serious with an intensity that Ophelia had yet to experience.

"What sort of plan?" Her eyes narrowed in concern. She had seen mention of spells that would allow one to take on a ghost in Snape's texts, but they were highly dangerous. They required one to basically enter the plane of the ghost world to do so.

"Evanescence corporal…"

She cringed. That was the one she feared the most. "Is there no other way?" She pleaded him with her eyes.

He shook his head. "No. I do not believe we have any other options."

"But how will you return?"

"If I am successful, you can bring me back."

"And if you are not?"

"Then it matters little…"

She nodded, but deep down she was terrified and confused. If she did give in to the demands of the persistent voice in her ear, the Dark Lord himself, she may never recover, especially if Snape failed to end this haunting. He had already driven her to the edge of insanity. It would take little more to push her over.

She strained her knowledge for any other option. She could not hide behind shielding spells forever, and Voldemort had to be stopped once and for all.

"I understand," she swallowed hard as she looked down. Her eyes sought the Dark Mark on his forearm, and she stroked it. She felt Snape tense beside her, but he did not pull away. She continued to trace her fingers along the intricate pattern.

He took her chin in his hand and tilted it until her eyes met his. Then he leaned in and kissed her softly. She knew then that he had finally forgiven her. "Come, let's find you some clean robes and gather what we need. The sooner we can end this, the sooner you can be truly free."

She nodded as he helped her to stand from the bed. "And so can you…"

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A/N: Almost to the end – are you still with me? Let me know. Thank you!