Dragonspell
Severus hovered nearby while Poppy did her best to treat his daughter. His body ached fiercely from the battle with Lucius, but that was nothing compared to the ache in his heart. Drake arrived soon after and was practically breathing down Pomfrey's neck until Snape drew him away, pushing him into a nearby chair.
"You need to sit down and let her work, Drake," Severus told the distraught teenager, who looked on the verge of tears or a major mental breakdown.
"But I just want . . .I need to touch her, see . . .since I can barely feel her anymore, Severus!" Drake whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "She told me she loved me . . .that was the last thing she sent to me before . . ." His hands clenched into white knuckled fists. "She can't die! She can't! I won't let her go."
"Neither will I," Severus vowed. "But all we can do now is pray, son."
Drake nodded dumbly, slipping into a kind of emotional shock that numbed his emotions. He'd been through this before, when his grandfather had died, it had enabled him to get through the wake, the funeral and the memorial service, but once it had worn off he'd done little but cry for weeks. But if Arista died, he feared he would go mad with grief, just the mere thought of losing her terrified him to the marrow of his bones.
Don't die, please. Don't die. Don't you dare die, Arista! He repeated over and over in his head, until the words ran together and he trailed off, feeling as if a giant hand was squeezing his heart in two.
Severus felt much the same, cursing himself for not being quicker to arrive, for not getting Lucius' attention focused on him first, for failing to protect his little girl the way a father should. Live for me, Arista sweetheart. Don't go to your mother just yet. I need you here, Drake needs you here, we couldn't get along without you. Stay with us. He clasped his hands together and prayed more fervently than he ever had in his life. God, I ask that You not take my little girl from me, please. If there is any mercy in You, Lord, please leave my Arista here with me. Grant me this one request, I beg You. Or, if You must take someone, take me instead.
He waited for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only an hour or so, before Poppy at last looked up from her patient. "Severus, I tried my best. But I'm not the Healer she is, and frankly, all I could do is heal her body. I've mended what was broken, but there's one thing I can't mend—her mind." The medi-witch looked utterly exhausted, and there were tears in her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that when Lucius cast that crushing hand spell or whatever, it cut off the oxygen supply to her brain for a time. I fear her brain . . .is damaged, beyond my capacity to heal, Severus. I'm so sorry."
"Maybe someone at St. Mungo's?"
Pomfrey shook her head sadly. "I don't know of anyone who could repair this kind of brain trauma, Severus, except maybe Arista herself."
"What do you mean, you can't heal her?" Drake interrupted, Pomfrey's last words echoing like a knell of doom in his head. "You're a Healer, that's your job!"
Poppy shook her head regretfully. "I know that, Drake, and please understand no one is more sorry than I am, but some things are simply beyond the scope of human possibility, even with magic."
"You're wrong!" Drake cried angrily, standing up and coming to glare at the medi-witch eye-to-eye. "Nothing is impossible with magic. Arista believed that, so why don't you? I'll bet she could heal this in the blink of an eye!"
"I'm sure she could, Drake, but I'm not her!" Poppy snapped. "Arista was one of my finest medical students, perhaps the best I've ever taught. A Healer of her caliber comes along once in ten generations, Mr. Lockwood, and unfortunately I'm not one of them. Do you honestly think I wouldn't help her if I were able to?"
"I don't know! You say there's no hope for her, but you don't know Arista like I do. She would never give up, she's still fighting in there somewhere, I can feel her, and I'm not giving up on her." Drake declared vehemently. "And if you can't help her, then I'll find someone who can, dammit!"
Then he spun away and raced out of the room, before he lost his temper completely and said something unforgivable.
"Poor boy," Poppy said softly. "I wish there were something I could do, Severus, but all the spells I know can't fix this."
"What about another empath?"
"Maybe, but I don't think empathy alone can bring back the brain cells damaged from lack of oxygen. She may never wake up, or she could wake up and not recognize you or be mentally retarded somehow. I'm so very sorry!"
"So am I, Poppy. That should've been me lying there, not her. Who heals the Healer, Poppy?"
Poppy did not bother to answer, she was too upset at losing her best student to reply to a question she thought might be rhetorical. She would never say this aloud in Snape's hearing, but perhaps the kindest fate was to have Arista sleep and never wake up.
Severus knew he should go back up to the hall, that he needed to make sure all the Death Eaters and such were gone from the school, but he couldn't make himself leave her. Not just yet. He wished with all of his being that there were something else he could do to help her. He considered contacting Ari, his mother-in-law, though she was an Animal Healer, perhaps she might know of something, or could try something . . .He put his head in his hands, frustrated and weary and sick. If only he'd been a Healer instead of a Potions Master or a Defense Master. Not all of his potions could save her now, he thought in despair. Dammit, I'm a wizard, I should be able to pull off one more miracle, just one . . .he reached out to touch her hand, using his talent to touch her mind, much as he'd done with Jenna that day after she'd been struck down by Nightshade.
And he found himself lost in a realm of dreams. But the dreams were a good sign, he reminded himself. Dreams meant that her brain was still functioning, at least on some level. He remembered Drake's insistence that he could still feel Arista's emotions through the soulbond. She's in there somewhere, fighting to come back.
He tried to penetrate the web of dreams, but they were many layers thick and he was too exhausted to think straight. He withdrew, knowing that without rest he could do more harm than good. But he would not abandon all hope yet. He was a Snape, and they never gave up. Physician, heal thyself, he thought, and it was more of a prayer than wishful thinking.
He bent and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, my Arista. Please get well."
Then he straightened, wincing as his leg protested.
He began to limp across the room towards the door, when he came face to face with the moon-like features of Vincent Crabbe, who was only just now waking up from the Draught of Living Death he'd willingly imbibed.
"Professor Snape!" the boy yelped, shrinking back from his teacher, who was glaring at him with a terrible fury. "It was all Draco's idea, honest . . ."
"Get . . .out!" Severus rasped, his hand clenching into fists. "Get out of here . . . now, before I kill you! You and him . . .the cause of all this . . .traitors to us all . . .I'll see you expelled for this . . .get out of my sight, or so help me . . .!"
Crabbe went backwards off the bed so fast he landed on the floor with a thump. Snape's hand was on his wand, though his iron discipline still held, and he hadn't used it yet. But Crabbe could tell the professor was very close to snapping that control in two and cursing him horribly, and so he picked himself up and fled without another word, all the way back to the dungeons, where he immediately began packing to leave.
There was no doubt in his mind that Snape meant what he said, and soon they would be coming to expel him, to break his wand, and cast him out of Hogwarts for good and all. What about Malfoy? Why don't they expel him too, since it was all his bloody idea in the first place? It wasn't fair. Malfoy always got away with everything, while he, Crabbe, took the lion's share of the blame.
Crabbe grabbed his trunk and started to climb out of the portrait hole.
"Hello, pretty," hissed a voice throbbing with hunger. "Come to Marvin for a nice snack."
"What?" Crabbe gaped at the vampire, who was staring at him eagerly, licking his lips, which were red with blood. "Ahhh!"
He tried to scramble back into the portrait hole, but the vampire was too quick.
There was a blur and then Crabbe was lifted like a ragdoll and teeth closed over his neck, biting down hard and beginning to feed.
Within moments, it was over. The vampire stepped back, blotting his lips delicately with his sleeve. "Mmm. Tasty." Then the creature heard footsteps and fled, slipping back through the secret tunnel and out into the night.
Back in the Great Hall, the students were still fighting small groups of vampires, ghouls, and werewolves, assisted by the three Hunters and Mel's ghosts. The ghost were most effective in fighting the vampires, for they were unaffected by the vampires' gaze and lighting speed. They were joined by Professors McGonagall and Pomona Sprout, who rendered several foes harmless by transfiguring them into rocks and chairs. Pomona cast a handful of seeds on the ground which grew into tendrils of kudzu as thick as a man's wrist, trapping the ghouls and werewolves in its coils, making them easy prey for the wizards' hexes.
The Hogwarts students had suffered some casualties, to be sure, but on the whole it could have been a lot worse given the fact that they had been betrayed. Thanks to Professor Snape's careful planning, most students had been brought to safety before the horde of monsters had begun roaming through the school. In addition to that Mel's ghostly army had kept the casualties down by fighting and killing any evil thing they encountered.
Mel found herself fighting back to back with Marsh and Hathaway, of all people, and to her surprise neither Slytherin commented on being forced to work with her. Apparently, the common foe they all faced had convinced them to set aside their differences and work together.
Flick, Cheyenne, and Colin were like wraiths, here, there, and everywhere. They accounted for half of the kills on the werewolves and vampires, who were the toughest foes the students now faced. The Hunters combined martial prowess with spellcasting in a deadly dance that was awesome to watch.
Colin could cast with one hand, taking out a charging werewolf, while simultaneously beheading a vampire coming at him from the side. Nothing ruffled the combat master's composure, he might have been taking a stroll through a park. Yet he was so deadly and so precise that his opponents died before they knew what hit them.
Cheyenne was no less fierce, in her way, a wizard with throwing knives and shuriken, able to hit four enemies in under a minute, and follow up an attack with a spell barrage. Five ghouls mobbed her, and she disappeared beneath them, only to reappear a few minutes later covered in greenish blood, and all the ghouls lay dead at her feet.
Flick was like the shadow he'd been named for, blinking in and out, keeping close watch on the students and assisting them when necessary with a well-timed thrust with a dagger or bo stick or spell. He moved like a dancer, gliding over the ground like some great predatory cat, silent and deadly.
Against the wall, Draco stirred, coming out of the Stunning Hex Drake had cast on him. He woke to discover over half of his father's vaunted strike force destroyed, and he himself was shackled with Null Magic Cuffs, courtesy of Flick.
He started to get to his feet, when a low growl behind him froze him in his tracks.
He turned his head slowly and met the blue eyes of Snape's magehound, who had taken it upon himself to guard the prisoner. Scout's teeth were bared in warning, and Draco shivered upon seeing them and quickly sat back down. He was not about to risk being bitten by the big hound, not after seeing the way Scout had taken down a Death eater at the beginning of this conflict.
Scout growled again, sitting down some five feet away from Draco, and eyeing him with extreme dislike. The magehound could smell the dark taint on the boy and knew he was not to be trusted.
That was how Drake found him when he returned to the hall, reasoning Malfoy might know some way of countering Lucius' Hand of Voldemort spell. "I need to speak to you, Malfoy."
Draco glared at the other boy. "Make it quick, Lockwood. I was going to go to sleep."
"You can sleep later. Right now I want a truthful answer and I want it NOW." Drake said in his most menacing tones.
"Ooo I'm really scared," Draco laughed mockingly. "Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance, Lockwood?"
"Because humiliation is a worse punishment than death for you," Drake snapped. "And I want you to live a long life with your cowardice. Don't mistake mercy for weakness, Malfoy, for it is neither. I could have killed you then, but I didn't. Want to know why? Because you're worth more alive than you are dead. For now, that is. I want answers to a very important question. Do you know of a counterspell to the Hand of Voldemort?"
Malfoy shook his head. "I've never heard of it."
Drake's eyes narrowed and he peered at the other boy sharply. "You wouldn't be lying to me, now would you?" he snarled, picking the other boy up by the collar and half-strangling him.
"Aghk!" Malfoy choked, his eyes bulging. "N-No! Stop! P-please!"
Drake released him. "Because if you are and I find out about it, I'll be back, coward! And I'll do worse than a Stunning spell, got me?" He glared at the other boy so menacingly that Draco shrank away and shivered.
Disgusted, Drake turned on his heel and left. He hadn't held out much hope that Draco would have the answer he sought so desperately, but he had to try anyway. He thought frantically. What other Healers do I know besides my dad and Pomfrey? Not many, and none of them were as strong as Arista. Then he recalled Fireflash saying something to him once about Citrine, his mother. Citrine was a dragon Healer. Could the bronze know something that human Healers did not? He prayed it was so, for the dragon had lived centuries and surely had learned more than a human in that time.
He raced out of the hall, ignoring the startled exclamations of his friends behind him. He would explain everything to them later.
He went out into the courtyard and rubbed his dragonscale pendant. "Citrine! It's Drake Lockwood. I need to speak to you immediately, it's an emergency!"
The scale went transparent, then Citrine's face appeared in it. "I'm on my way, young wizard."
"I'm in the courtyard," he added unnecessarily, for the dragon queen was already circling in for a landing.
* * * * * *
After listening to Drake's explanation of what had happened, Citrine agreed to try some dragon magic on Arista. "You say your Healer thinks she might have sustained brain trauma?" Drake nodded. Citrine looked thoughtful. "Hmm. I know of a potion that might assist me with that, but it's very rare, and the ingredients are known only to one species."
"What one? Tell me and I can tell Severus, he can brew it."
Citrine snorted softly. "Oh, I don't doubt he can, young one, but the merpeople keep their magics secret from all, especially human wizards. It is very nearly the only advantage they have over you humans when it comes to sorcery. Still, seeing as how they owe a debt to Arista for saving their Water Mistress, I shall speak to Amlioranee, if anyone will consent to help your beloved it is she."
"Thank you, Citrine. I can't tell you how much this means . . ." he trailed off awkwardly, sniffling sharply.
The dragon looked at him sympathetically. "Do not lose hope yet, child. While there is life, there is hope. I will do all in my power to help you, for Healer Snape gave me back my son, and for that I owe her a debt that will never be repaid. Remember, nothing is impossible with magic."
"Arista always says that. She said it was her mother's favorite expression."
"And it is a true one. Amelia learned that from us, it is a draconic saying," Citrine said. "For with dragons, belief and power go talon in talon, or hands, in the case of you humans." She spread her magnificent wings. "Wait here, Drake. I shall be back in a few minutes."
Drake waited tensely for several minutes, fighting the urge to pace around and around like a demented wind-up toy.
But Citrine was a s good as her word, returning within four minutes. She landed lightly in the courtyard, saying with a pleased smile, "Amlioranee has agreed to make the Memory Restoring Draft for me. She also said to tell you that such is unprecedented, but for Healer Snape she will do anything, for she is the holder of Amlioranee's life debt."
Drake whistled. "I guess it was a lucky thing for Arista when she saved a mermaid that day."
"I think it is fate more than luck. And Amlioranee is no mere mermaid, young man. She is their queen and head of their Wave Mystics, the most powerful sorceress the Black Lake clan has, perhaps the most powerful of all the merpeople." Citrine chuckled at Drake's astonished expression. "Fortune smiles upon your soulmate, Drake. May it continue to do so, if the Creator is kind."
"Amen to that. How soon will the draft be ready?"
"Amlioranee says she should have it done in a few hours. You must give it to Arista and then bring her to me. I will convene a circle of dragons, for I shall need their strength for a spell of such magnitude."
"May I come with you?"
"Of course. You are a member of the Society of Bronze, and more, you are her soulmate. I shall need you to call to her, for the bond of love is the most powerful force in all the universe. You and Severus must be there, the bonds of blood and love are necessary if I am to succeed in finding her. I shall call you when the potion is ready, young mage. Until then, try and get some rest, you'll do her no good if you fall asleep on your feet."
"Yes, I'll try, Lady Citrine," Drake said, bowing to her. "I have to go and tell Severus. Goodbye!" he dashed away, eager to find Severus and tell the Defense Master the good news.
"Goodbye, Drake!" Citrine called, then took off to sit beside the lake and wait for the Water Mistress's return. Dragons were nothing if not patient. She cocked an ear towards the Forbidden Forest, where the sounds of battle could be heard. The centaurs and their allies were fighting the rest of Voldemort's army, who were attempting to get through the wood and attack the castle. Citrine did not think they would succeed, not pitted against the denizens of the forest and her own people.
Strong as those necromancers were, they were not in Voldemort's class, no match for dragonfire or the might of the centaurs. And even Voldemort would have had trouble handling a flight of bronzes, she thought in satisfaction, curling her forelegs beneath her.
Severus nearly wept with relief when Drake told him about Citrine's proposal and Amlioranee's agreement. "And to think, I scolded her for rescuing that mermaid that night," he shook his head in disgust. "Sometimes I'm such an idiot. I guess it's true, what they say, about the good you do returning to you tenfold." They were seated in the Headmistress's office, along with Minerva and Colin. The school was still on alert status, for Severus was not sure all of the ghouls and other dangerous creatures had been killed, and the ghosts were still patrolling the halls.
"I've always believed that, Severus," said Minerva. "I do hope everything works out for you, it would be a terrible tragedy otherwise."
The Potions Master coughed, sipping a goblet of spiced honey wine. "The worst thing ever, by my estimation. Have you heard from Albus yet?"
"Yes, he contacted me yesterday. His mission was a success and they are headed back here. Hopefully they will make it here before Voldemort does."
"Does Voldy know about them?" Colin asked softly.
"I would assume he must know something, he's not stupid. He does know about what happened here, how Lucius failed to take the school and how most of his army has been cut to pieces by the bronze dragons and the ghost legion," Minerva said proudly.
"He's probably going mad with fury," Snape declared with a sardonic smirk. "He's not used to losing on such a scale. If I had to guess, he's probably itching to get back here, to teach us upstarts a lesson."
"Humph! Let him come, and the dragons will give him a lesson he'll not forget in a hurry," Drake said. Then he yawned hugely.
"You ought to be in bed, Drake," Severus said, eyeing the boy in concern. "You look utterly exhausted."
"So do you, sir," Drake answered.
"He's right, Sev. You need to rest too," Colin put in. "You'll need to be alert for the ceremony Citrine has planned."
Severus shot an irritated glance at the Hunter. "I don't have the luxury of sleep, Flynn. Not now, at any rate. I need to make sure the school's defenses are brought up to scratch and all the monsters are out of here before I can even think of sleeping."
"Leave that to me and my Hunters, Sev," Colin argued. "We'll keep watch for you."
"Colin, you've already done enough," he began.
"Says who? The battle's not over until we're the only ones left standing, Sev. And until then, I'll do whatever needs doing. Up to and including telling you to get your stubborn ass to bed, Snape." He locked eyes with the other man, and after a few moments, Severus nodded.
"Very well, I'll go, if only to shut you up, Flynn," he conceded. "But those monsters better be cleared out of here by the time I wake up."
"Yes, sir!" Colin said, giving him a mock salute. "Quit worrying, Sev, you'll give yourself more gray hairs. Between us and the ghosts, we'll have all the nasty critters cleared out before you can say Quidditch. My word as a combat master on it." He held out a hand and Severus took it. "Especially since we don't have to worry about any more slinking weasels betraying us, like that Malfoy kid."
"I should say not, Hunter Flynn," agreed Minerva. "Mr. Malfoy has done enough damage to this school, we have him under heavy guard, he's not to be left alone for a minute and as soon as I can convene a staff meeting, we will vote to expel him, since we can't send a minor to Azkaban, despite his crimes."
"More's the pity," Severus growled. "I'll look forward to breaking his wand, though."
"And then what? You'll let him walk?" Colin asked.
"Yes, but he'll be powerless without a wand, and marked as untrustworthy forever more. The Ministry will keep close watch on him, never fear. The first hint of any dark magic and he'll be arrested," Minerva explained. "And the Ministry officials will be a lot less gentle than we are."
"I could give him a taste of Ministry justice now if you want," Snape offered, his eyes glittering with suppressed hatred.
"No doubt, Severus, which is why you're forbidden to see him. The last thing you need on your record is a murder." Minerva stated crisply.
"Oh, I wouldn't kill him," Snape drawled harshly. "But he'd wish I had."
"That's why you're staying away from him," said McGonagall firmly. "Now might I suggest you follow Colin's advice and get some sleep, please?"
"All right, God help me!" the Potions Master muttered crossly. "Anything to get you off my back." He rose to his feet, leaning on the Blackstaff. "But someone better feed Scout, he hasn't eaten since yesterday and guarding Malfoy's no picnic."
"We'll make sure he's fed, Sev. Now get!" Colin ordered, shooing the other wizard away.
Snape went, muttering something about younger brothers being a very big pain in the ass.
Drake bit his lip. "That goes for you too, Lockwood!" the Hunter ordered and Drake obeyed, hiding a smile.
* * * * * *
Citrine delivered the potion some six hours later, and by that time Severus and Drake were well rested, having slept for most of that time. The school was now considered safe again, all of the remaining ghouls and such had been driven out by the ghost legion and the younger wizards on patrol with the Hunters. They had done very well, all things considered, and were a credit to their Defense Master.
Even Trelawney had outdone herself, using the combat wand Severus had provided to defend the twenty first-years in her tower suite against three ghouls and a Death Eater. She had been assisted by Comfrey, oddly enough, as the normally gentle feline had sprang on the sorcerer's shoulders and proceeded to claw and bite the man, making him fall down the tower steps.
All of the SR's were frantic with worry over Arista, and had each gone to see her while Snape and Drake were sleeping. It was a shock seeing the lively little Healer so still and pale, more like a wax doll than a living breathing person.
"Poor Arista," Trish wept. "I wish I'd killed bloody Lucius instead of Narcissa, then we wouldn't be in this fix. I wish bloody Lucius had hexed me instead, then Arista could heal me and everything would be fine. She can't die, Mel, then poor Severus would have no one left except me and I'm only his foster daughter and he'd never forgive me!"
Mel put her arms about her friend. "Don't be ridiculous, Trish, of course he'd forgive you, since none of this is your fault. Which isn't going to happen anyway, so stop driving yourself nuts, okay? And what's this nonsense about only being his foster daughter, huh? Didn't you tell me that he loves you the same as Arista?"
"Yes, but still, she's his blood and I'm not," Trish blubbered. "I'll bet he wouldn't feel half as bad if it were me lying there half-dead."
Mel opened her mouth to refute her friend's words, then closed it when she saw Professor Snape standing there, he had just entered the infirmary and caught Trish's last sentence.
"Now that has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, Trish Greenbough," Severus said quietly, coming to stand beside them. Trish gasped and jerked her head up to stare at him, her eyes puffy and red from crying.
"But it's true."
"It most certainly is not," he stated firmly, and hugged her to him. "Silly girl, when I adopted you that made you my daughter in all ways except one, no matter what. Don't ever think otherwise, child. In fact, when you're legally an adult, you can change your name to mine if you'd like and be Tricia Snape instead of Greenbough."
"Really? You wouldn't mind?"
"Not at all. I love you, child and I would be proud to call you my daughter. So I don't want to hear any more nonsense about it being better off if you were hurt instead, you hear?"
"Yes, Dad," she murmured and hugged him back hard.
He patted her on the back, then released her. "As far as Arista's concerned, Drake and I think the dragons and the Water Mistress Amlioranee might be able to cure her with their special brand of magic."
"Really? That's great! When can they start?" Mel queried, smiling delightedly.
"Now. Amlioranee just made up a Memory Restorative to give to her and then I'm to bring her to Citrine and the other dragons so they can work their spell on her. If all goes well, she should be fine in a day or two."
"That's the best news I've heard all week," crowed Kit, grinning from ear to ear. "The only thing that could top that would be if Voldy up and croaked all of a sudden."
"Keep praying, Ambrosius, and it just might happen," Snape said dryly. Then he moved over to the bed, and began to give Arista the Memory Restorative, a little at a time, with a small spoon.
The potion was a silvery blue shot through with golden sparkles and Severus was careful to make sure not a drop of it was wasted. The ingredients were a mystery even to him, and he hadn't bothered trying to pry the recipe out of the Water Mistress, for he sensed she would never share it with outsiders. All that mattered anyway was if it helped Arista.
Once he'd administered the entire draft to her, he gently placed her on a stretcher and floated her from the room.
"May I come and see?" Trish asked.
"Sorry, but no. The dragons will only permit those who have sworn Dragon's Oath to be present at the working," Snape told her regretfully. "But I'll let you know as soon as it's over. For now, why don't you get some sleep?"
"I don't think I can sleep," Trish said uncertainly.
"Sure you can," Mel broke in. "I'll just knock you upside the head, Greenbough. Then you'll sleep like a baby."
Trish made a face at her. "Some friend you are, Mel."
"Best one you'll ever have."
"How d'you figure that?"
"'Cause only your best friend would ever dare to knock sense into your head," Mel returned.
"Maybe you'd like me to sing you a lullaby, Trish?" Kit offered, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes.
"Uh, no thanks, Kit!" Trish said hastily. Kit's voice was not given to soothing tones, resembling more the caw of a raven.
"Yeah, Ambrosius, she's trying to sleep, not be driven to distraction," Mel said.
"Oh, come on, Mel dear, you saying you don't find my voice enchanting?"
"Kit, you have a marvelous speaking voice, and I could listen to it for hours. But singing, that's a whole different kettle of fish. Don't feel bad, lots of people can't sing. Although there might be one thing your singing is good for, darling," she added with a sly smile.
"What's that?" Kit asked sulkily.
"Annoying the bloody blue blazes out of Draco," Mel answered. "Go and watch him for a few hours, Kit, and sing him all those awful ballads and Irish folk songs your aunt taught you last summer. It'll be the worst form of torture."
Kit looked torn between being insulted and being amused. But then he laughed softly and said, "All right, I will. And serve him right, the treacherous little ferret."
"Maybe you could get Scout to join in," suggested Snape wickedly. "He likes to sing too."
Mel and Trish burst out giggling. "Then he'll really think he's gone to hell," Trish chuckled. "Do it, Kit, and I'll sleep just fine, imagining Draco getting his just desserts at last."
"Your wish is my command," Kit said, giving her a mock bow.
"Have fun, Mr. Ambrosius," Snape said. "I'll let you know how all of this turns out." Then he left, the stretcher with Arista floating gracefully after him.
He met Citrine down by the lake, where the dragon opened a portal that led to a secret clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Drake was already waiting for him to arrive, and they took Arista through together, one on each side of her.
They walked out of the fiery gateway into a pretty forest glade, a glade occupied by several dragons. Most were members of the Dragon Council, including Sardonyx, Tiger Eye, and Sunstrike. Fireflash was there, as was Topaz, and three dragons they did not know. Together with Citrine, they numbered nine, three times three, a potent number.
"Welcome, Severus and Drake, Dragonfriends, to our gathering," Sardonyx said formally, inclining his head respectfully. "Citrine has informed us of Healer Snape's need, and we eight are here to lend whatever support she needs. Our strength and magic are given willingly to you, Invoker Citrine, to use as you see fit to save Arista."
Citrine dipped her head in acknowledgement of the dragons' sacrifice. "Set her here, in the center of the circle, Severus," she instructed.
Snape obeyed, and the stretcher floated down until it touched the ground.
"And now, Severus and Drake, I ask that you open your mind to me," Citrine said. "By linking with me, you can add your strength to mine and with the power of your love, summon her home again."
"We will do whatever you require, Citrine," Severus said, dropping the shields over his mind, allowing the dragon access to his innermost thoughts.
Drake followed suit.
Both of them felt the dragon touch their mind, delicately, yet the contact was firm.
"Good, now kneel beside her and take one of her hands in yours. Touch is important." They did so and she came to stand directly over them, her green eyes whirling with golden sparks. She turned to her fellow dragons. "Hum a descant, if you please, my friends. Then give me what strength and magic you can."
The dragons began to hum, a melodic thrumming that made the bones of Severus and Drake throb in time to their tune. Then a golden glow emerged from each dragon and one by one they breathed a short spurt of flame, which Citrine gathered in her forefoot, a shimmering ball of magical power. "Power freely given and freely accepted," Citrine intoned. "Let this serve as a base for my working." She spoke a word in dragonspeech and the glowing ball was absorbed into her scales, making them sparkle with the light of a hundred suns. Then she began to sing softly, her head swaying back and forth, weaving her healing spell with her voice and her will.
Neither Snape nor Drake understood what she was singing, for her song was in the oldest language of all, that of the bronze dragon, who were the first creatures on earth to develop language. But the power in her song made the hairs on the back of their neck prickle.
Then Citrine inhaled sharply and blew out a cloud of lavender mist shot through with myriad blue and gold bubbles that floated over Arista and enveloped her. Tendrils of the mist touched both the other wizards as well, and it felt cool and warm at the same time.
Citrine continued to sing, and her melody was more compelling now, summoning rather than soothing. Call to her, she sent to Drake and Severus. Let her know you are here, waiting for her.They obeyed, calling her with all of the will they possessed, putting all of the love and need they felt for her into their mental voices.
Citrine breathed another jet of violet mist over them and leaned down and touched the top of Arista's head with her tongue gently. "Healer Snape, I bid you awaken. I, Citrine, summon you back. Follow my song home, child."
Her singing increased, chanting the same phrases over and over in dragonspeech, which when translated, went something like this: "Come back, Healer Arista Eileen Snape. Your beloved and your friends call you. Walk the starry road back home."
A third time she breathed the violet mist over the sleeping magician, chanting the same phrases.
This time there was a definite reaction. Arista's eyelids fluttered. She opened her mouth, breathing in more of the violet mist, and coughed.
Citrine smiled toothily, pleased. "Good, child," she hummed. "Breathe deeply the Mist of Life and be healed. Open your eyes, Healer Snape and see who waits for you."
At her words, Arista's eyes opened, and at first they were confused, disoriented, bewildered. Then she turned her head slightly and saw Drake. Her eyes glowed with love. "Drake. I knew it was you," she said.
He grinned back at her, tears of immense relief trickling down his cheeks. "You know me then?"
"Of course I do. How could I not know my soulmate, who shares my heart?"
Then she smiled, turning her head to the other side and staring at her father.
"Dad. I thought I recognized you."
Severus smiled down at her, his eyes filling with tears. "Welcome home, my Arista."
Arista stared about her meeting Citrine's great green orbs. "Lady Citrine. You found me. I was lost, my mind was adrift in the mist and then you came and I followed your song back home again."
"Welcome back, Healer Snape. I only did what one Healer must do for another, young magician. As you saved my son, so now I save you."
"Thank you, lady," Arista said softly, feeling a gentle lassitude sweep over her. She found her eyes closing in spite of herself and before she knew it she was asleep once more, but unlike before, this was a true healing sleep, renewing and restoring.
"Arista!" Drake cried in alarm.
"Easy, young wizard," Citrine reproved quietly. "She is merely sleeping, as is proper after such an ordeal."
"Sleeping? But that's all she's been doing for the past day or two," Drake objected.
"That was no true sleep. This one is. She will awake fully restored in mind and body, Mr. Lockwood, tomorrow afternoon or thereabouts," the dragonhealer declared. "Might I suggest you follow her example?"
"But I'm not tired," he said grumpily.
"Are you not?"
"No," he started to say, then yawned and fell asleep in mid-denial.
Severus peered worriedly at the boy, who had toppled over to lie next to Arista, his hand still entwined with hers. "Is he okay, Citrine?"
"Fine, Defense Master. But he, like yourself, has given unsparingly of his magic today and needs to rest."
"But what about Arista?" Severus protested sleepily, for he too was feeling the effects of assisting Citrine.
"Sleep, Severus Snape. She will be watched by us, never fear." Citrine said.
"If you're sure . . .?" Snape said, smothering a huge yawn. His eyes were so heavy, it was impossible to keep them open any longer . . .He slumped over, asleep before his head touched the grass.
Citrine nodded in approval. "Good. A nice long sleep is what they all need."
Fireflash shot his mother a suspicious look. "Did you magic them somehow, Mom?"
The golden bronze blushed a faint blue-green. "A side effect of the Mist of Life on human wizards is to give them a dreamless sleep. They were all breathing it in, it couldn't be helped. Besides, they could all use it, for I'd wager my scales that neither of them got much sleep last night. Sleep is the physician of pain."
"Sure, Mom, whatever you say," Fireflash said. "I'm just happy Arista's gonna be all right."
"So am I, son. It was touch and go for a few minutes there," the dragonhealer admitted softly. "But her love for her family and for Drake was too strong to be denied and she found her way back for them. Which is how it should be."
Then she curled half of her massive body around the three peacefully slumbering wizards and said, "I think I too shall take a little nap. Keep watch, my children." The she put her head on her forefeet and fell asleep.
Fireflash exchanged rueful glances with his sister. "Damn. How is it we always end up with guard duty? We'll miss all the fighting with Voldemort."
Topaz sighed. "No rest for the wicked, big brother. Besides, I think she meant it as an honor."
Fireflash rolled his eyes. "An honor I could have done without," he hissed, but he settled down soon enough when Sardonyx glared at him in reproof.
"Don't be a warmonger, son," the Dragon Lord said. Then he turned to the other dragons and said, "Let us fly, my friends. They're going to need out claws and flame against the one who names himself the Dark Lord."
One by one, the other dragons spread their wings and flew back through the portal at Sardonyx's bidding, leaving Fireflash and Topaz to guard the sleeping Citrine and the three wizards.
So now you know why it was so important that Arista saved the mermaid Amlioranee back in the Very Best Thing!
How did you like the way the bronzes helped her?