A/N: As promised, the next chapter :D

Chapter Eight: One Hour

Everything was prepared for the ceremony that would bind the priestess to Severus Snape. The room where she was tortured before was to become a place where she would be reborn into the Death Eaters society. According with this only the inner circle was invited to witness how the recovering witch would be shackled to Voldemort's right hand. Once again the Dark Lord surprised with his knowledge of dark arts and willingness to bend the rules.

Severus would have liked to wait a few days, give her magical core time it needed to get rid of dark magic for this was the only progress that could help her protect her secrets. Some of the changes he was privy of alarmed him and he doubted there was 'healing' of any kind present in the ceremony at all. Voldemort wanted access to her mind, but did not desire to sacrifice his precious time on her – it was clear that the protections she had would unravel only after months of slow poisoning of her magic and soul. Such work was best given to someone like him – a potions master who was used to wait for potions to mature in their own time.

I should be grateful the Dark Lord has no patience for this – but I fear she will only bring more complications to Hogwarts. How will I run the school, take care of Potter and guard my secrets if she is to stay in my quarters? She will hate me with a passion…

Snape knew from the short conversations with Voldemort that the binding was intended to nullify her other pledges sustaining her protections. The new bond was supposed to knit together the wound left from the one they've broken, but such healing was dubious at best – one could not patch up souls like a piece of china. It was possible that the ceremony could be the last blow that would turn her into Alice and Frank Longbottom – her condition was unstable enough and the forces raging inside her too strong to meddle with. And there was also the problem of the freed magic residing over her blood…

Severus was afraid of it and the dreams one touch brought him the next day. He had awoken in cold sweat, a scream on his lips that he barely managed to hold in. It would have been highly unprofessional if a rumour were to leak that he was having nightmares… But the dreams spoke of pain and darkness, feeling lost and alone… yet there was always a woman's voice, the voice he had heard inside the wild magic, a lingering whisper in Jasna's mind… it was reciting a scripture he did not recognize.

It was this that worried him the most – what if the wild magic would try to take over Jasna? What if it saw her as a vessel to break out of the room? It certainly had a mind of its own… After a second thought, Snape was convinced Voldemort chose the room precisely because of this. It was possible he wanted to bind the wild magic inside the bond and tame it for his purpose. After all, freed magic was nothing but trouble and very rare in England because it could not be controlled once it gained power.

However dangerous it might be, this ceremony was Jasna's only chance at healing and Severus the only man that would not use the bond to torment her – he knew only too well how it felt to be a puppet in the hands of two masters. Since it was a combination of oaths of fealty and marriage bindings of old, it was highly potent and as such able to render her without a will of her own. It was almost like an Imperio and that worried him.

Severus still hoped she would gather her wits like before and do something to avoid this possible future. He could do very little to help her at the ceremony and any deviation on his part later on would be easily discernable to the dark Lord. He could not let her work against the Death Eaters even if an ally of her calibre would have been most welcome. But Severus doubted anyone outside the Temple was capable of controlling her now. She was unstable, unpredictable like the magic her broken bond freed…

If only she was never found and captured…

Severus expected her to stay loyal to the Temple, nothing more. He had no illusions of convincing her to join the Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix – as if he could reveal himself as a spy to a person that was most likely to think the worst of him! He planned to involve her as little as possible in his business and the school. She was to remain in the rooms he would decide she was safe to wander and stay out of his hair. She was just another victim of the Dark Lord's reign of terror and nothing more. It was also too dangerous to trust her and his position in this game of chess far too important to take risks. Jasna had not been broken by torture, but harnessed her pain and anger to fight back. These were the qualities of a person that did not give in, who fought just of the sake of fighting, defying those who wished to crush them. Who knew what she was capable of?

If only she could become an ally… sighed Severus Snape.

Seeing her condition every day and combining that with the impression he got of her before, he formed his own conclusions and ideas. He had a suspicion Jasna knew very well that the ritual would have succeeded and she interfered – how, he had no idea, but the power raging inside her mind could be used in desperate times. And she was a priestess – an expert in ancient lore. If not she then who could have known what to do to stop the ritual? But she would be in no shape to do so again, he reminded himself.

The big clock in the hall struck the full hour and Snape moved his gaze from the spots of light on the carpet to the mantelpiece. The ceremony was to take place in exactly one hour. He was prepared, but Jasna was yet to be told about the next torture.

Severus slowly stood up from the armchair and moved to the window. The first of the inner circle were seen arriving, the glow of the setting sun painting them in rich reds and purples. These vultures would gather in the dining room while he was expected to remain removed from them until the beginning. He had performed the required cleansing ritual in the morning – the only thing the Dark Lord could not change or give a little twist in this whole affair. Perhaps he learned something from last failure…

He turned on his heals and strode purposefully to the door. One look at the mirror in the hall reminded him why he had secluded himself in the room - the set of white robes he was required to wear until the ceremony looked ridiculous on him. Black was his colour – it suited his mood, it suited his reputation. This was something Albus Dumbledore would pull off nicely.

The sound of footsteps approaching made him disappear up the staircase. It was time to see if Narcissa was finished with Jasna anyway. The priestess was too weak to take a bath or to walk by herself most of the time. A tentative truce had been formed between the women, so Narcissa was the only one that the priestess let close to when awake. Thus it was the blonde witch who took care of Jasna most of the time and Severus and Lucius only interfering when her magic got out of control. Severus hoped they were finished with the preparations and that the potions he gave Mrs. Malfoy helped.

As he stood before the closed door of the guestroom, listening for the sounds of activity inside, he wondered what the year would bring to the Malfoys. The Dark Lord had placed Lucius under house arrest, Bella was given free reign of the house more often as of late and the general atmosphere was brimming with tension and darkness ever since the ritual. This was no place to live in any more.

I'd sell the house once this is all over… he thought bitterly. But since Severus Snape did not know what would happen in an hour, he decided to relinquish any thoughts of plans and most of all those of other people. Firmly knocking on the wooden door, he called, "Narcissa? Are you finished?"

A muffled answer was heard a few moments later, so he stepped in. The wards recognized him, but even if he were an intruder, the present elves would have transported him away immediately. He did not spare a look on the small beings and moved to inspect the potions flasks – the amount of pain-relief administered was getting smaller, but the Dreamless Sleep was as high as ever.

"Do you have something against the fever?" asked Narcissa when she appeared from the adjoining bathroom to pick up a few things from the chest of drawers, "It's returned," she whispered worried.

"How bad is it?" Severus asked with a frown.

"It's not dangerous, but the little strength she has is getting sapped," told the worried witch as she straightened the satin ribbons in her hands with nervous hands. "You know she can't fight the pain and the fever at the same time… couldn't we wait another day?"

Severus shook his head but knew Narcissa was only trying to buy time to be free of any blame on her part were something to go wrong again. When faced with the choice of saving a stranger (no matter how important and special) and saving her family, she would do like any other mother and choose her son and husband.

She sighed in resignation, "Is she really strong enough to get through this again?"

"Let us hope for her sake that she is," he told her.