Sorry for the long wait... Our neighbour had cut the phone line by accident in his backyard when they were digging something to do with pipes or something... (sweatdrop)

Chapter Fourteen: Aftermath

Severus Snape was gazing through the window of his new quarters at Hogwarts, looking with unseeing eyes at the Forbidden forest and gritting his teeth from time to time in order to push down spasms of pain shooting up his spine – a common side-effect of frequent exposure to Cruciatius. A new day was dawning slowly, but he had not slept a minute in the night.

The Dark Lord had been in an explosive mood, he thought as he gingerly moved his left shoulder, and very generous with foul words and hexes. Severus thought he had been fortunate compared to others. The Dark Lord could not stomach the thought that one priestess was able to thwart him time and time again even in her bad shape and made his feelings clearly known. They were lucky no one got killed even if it was a narrow miss for Jasna.

He would have probably gulped down a vial of Dreamless Sleep and be done with the pain and problems that had piled upon him were there not her. Jasna had borne the brunt of Dark Lord's anger and was in a right state. After the protection of the ritualistic circle had collapsed she was the prime target of Voldemort's wrath which was dangerous even when you were in good physical shape and not barely lucid from the magical exhaustion and recovering from serious injuries. The Cruciatius hitting her full-blast had been so strong that even when she had tried to buffer it with her restored protections she was unable to stop the pain and torment from reaching him through their bond.

It was his cry of pain and his plea to spare her since not everything was lost yet that had stopped the torment but then she had already collapsed in a twitching heap in the circle. Her eyes had rolled upwards to expose the whites and blood trickled from her nose when he had turned her around with cold hands. When he felt her pulse he knew she was in serious danger and all his fears were confirmed with just one wave of his wand. He had ignored the raging Dark Lord who continued to release his anger on the room and other men and had tried his best to stabilize her despite the pain he felt through that strand of power connecting them. It was a miracle she had survived in her weakened state and he suspected early on that the bond between them had something to do with it – he had never before felt so weak magically, so she must have taken power from him to sustain her failing heart even before the curse had hit her.

When he had started to cast a flurry of spells to keep her comfortable and her state stable a while longer, the Dark Lord finally realised hat he could very well loose her. Afterwards things happened really quickly. He remembered screaming for Malfoy to bring potions (a good safety precaution if he ever saw one) but then everything was just a flurry of pain, nausea and urgency. He disregarded his own pain to focus on her, but now he had to admit that he must have still felt a par of her won pain through their unique bond.

Severus turned his head to the side and glanced through the open door of his bedroom at the unmoving form in his bed that continued to occupy his thoughts for hours. The Dark Lord was quite amenable to moving her to Hogwarts and they did so immediately. He was relieved to get her out of the enraged wizard's sight – Voldemort cooled down quicker if he was not confronted with the object of his failure and he would have time and privacy to learn more of her.

Jasna was still unconscious since he had given her the last set of potions to strengthen her heart and stop the pain, but he knew she would wake up in the next hour or two. Her face was drawn and paler than the white sheets, the contrast only made stronger with her dark hair. The runes monitoring her physical state shimmered over her form but had not changed in the last few hours the worrying news. She had a long way to go to get well again.

Severus exhaled in a minuscule sigh and held the bridge of his nose between his fingers. His eyes felt like sandpaper and the bags under them only too openly told of a man stretched to his limits. He needed sleep, but could get none until she was better. This angered him in some deep level and not only because his job was harder with her needs and constant presence but because he could not trust her with his colleagues. They were connected now - one person by magical standards if he understood the ritual correctly, but what exactly that meant was an enigma. Jasna had changed, morphed the ritual and magical strands… and he had a suspicion the Mother had done something too. Jasna knew more, had to know more to take the option when death would have been preferable. He had been given a small glimpse of her memories and knew how determined she was to protect the Temple and the knowledge it held. He could respect her for that and her resilience, but she was nonetheless a complete stranger to him. They were allies, but he had yet to find out more about her before he would trust her further. She already had a powerful card in her hands – she knew he was not loyal to Voldemort.

Gently massaging the bridge of his nose, he moved with slow steps to the table where a stack of papers waited for him. He had many things to do, many things to supervise and too little time. If he were a man of hope, someone who trusted in things coming together by a hand of god, he would have believed Jasna could be of use, but he was not such a man and a spy would never trust another with things he could accomplish alone. She appeared to be the same in this way, but how he knew that he was not sure.

As he sat down in the old chair, he had to massage the itching skin where the mark of the Mother was now slumbering inside his skin. It had hurt like hell when it ate into his flesh, his magic, leaving a big and ugly crust of dried blood in its wake, but it was still nothing compared to the Dark Mark. He could feel no evil from it, only a sense of watchfulness, like he had gotten a sentinel to follow his steps and protect him in need. It was a peculiar feeling, something he could not rightly place and this in turn made him angry.

She had no right!

He cursed inside his mind – it had been a big gamble to trust Jasna when he did so, but he had realised everything was lost if she fell, if she got lost to the darkness. But that small piece of trust he extended to her did not give her or any of her relations the right to claim him. Oh, he knew very well he was under the watchful eyes of a powerful and mysterious community – a community that had withstood time and countless wars. He had enough of masters and no desire to collect another one. The link strengthening between them appeared not a line of salvation like it was for her but a slowly growing chain pulling him deeper into the abyss.

Despite Jasna's continuing survival and relative freedom, nothing was won yet, the war was still waging on. Voldemort might not have won the battles, but Jasna was far from victorious herself. No, this was a clear draw and Severus could only pray and hope (which he did not by principle) that he would be left out of the inevitable battle between the priestess and the Dark Lord. If he had any say in the matter, he decided to make sure he would be safe from them both. She was a dangerous person. The many unpleasant skirmishes between them evidence enough of her temper and deep grudge against dark magic. No, she was a power all her own and he knew her magical strength would return quickly in the protective embrace of Hogwarts – it always did help him heal quicker.

Yet, there was that incident when she had held his power in her hands. When she had linked with him, claimed a part of him as her protector he remembered that she was uncannily comfortable with the dark part of his soul and magical core. In fact, she seemed used to the darkness it entailed – but how? It was an unsettling enigma when the forceful infusion of dark powers into her core and the breaking of her bond had almost claimed her life. The book from the darkest corner of Dumbledore's private collection waiting for him on the desk offered answers to all his questions and more, but he was not sure he wanted them. The book appeared to be quite dark, malicious even… but since when was he daunted by outer appearances?

He reached for the book, but before his fingers could have settled on the worn cover, a small tingle of the new mark made him hesitate. He held his hand over the book, strangely unsure what had just happened but unwilling to disregard warnings of any kind. The link he had with Jasna seemed to vibrate and this was the only warning he received before a part of his power was suddenly drained. Not a moment after a low moan was heard from the bedroom and the monitoring spells sounded a warning. He pushed the chair away in one powerful thrust and rushed to the bed. He could feel the strand connecting them change slightly, being infused with his power and the slow trickle of her depleted strength.

"Foolish woman…" Severus muttered as he perused the readings – her body was still not recovering fast enough and her heart threatened to fail without the help of potions. "Why do you feed this link your strength?" he asked, but she was unable to answer him.

He summoned a small towel and wiped her brow. No matter how weak her body, she seemed to be more concerned with her magical core and the magical bonds she had with the Temple and other people. Since he had felt the various strands connecting and twining with her core, he knew she had many and thus he was not sure why this bond meant so much to her. It couldn't be that she truly considered him to be her husband. He certainly had not agreed to that and had thus been mightily shocked at the words of the Mother.

He looked through the window to the lightening sky and had to gulp down another sigh. There were just a few hours until he was required to appear in the Great hall and face his staff. He could feel a migraine manifest just imagining their faces and sharp words… but he were not who he was if he would let that hinder him, no – he would fulfil his role and finish this war once and for all. He only worried what would happen with her in the mean time. If only he could call Poppy to look after Jasna…

Severus returned his gaze back to the forest and tried to not imagine what the day would bring.

A/N: New chapters to follow soon!