Good day, readers. I took a holiday and polished this one, just for you. Severus and Morgan are trying to figure out how to come together, and it isn't easy for either of them (nothing ever is). Reader reviews have been so very motivating, I hope you'll continue. Feel free to PM me if you don't want to post one publicly. I always treasure your feedback.
Happy reading! -DN
Severus Snape could not recall ever before having been this pleased, perhaps not since that first ride on the Hogwarts Express. Their wedding plans were in place (he had wedding plans!), the date a mere weeks away, once Morgan's friends and colleagues from Sedona finished their school year and arrived. It seemed possible that he might manage not to destroy things completely in that limited amount of time.
The Dark Lord was defeated and there were no significant signs that the Death Eaters would attempt to regroup and attack any time soon, though a great deal of vigilance was maintained on the part of the Ministry and the Aurors. The Deputy Minister of Magical Education had been influential to the Minister of Magical Education and he would not only keep his job, but also no longer be under investigation, at least for now. Perhaps he might even have an ally, should he need one when he approached the Wizengamot about accommodating his honeymoon.
O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams were over and most students had done well enough not to embarrass the name of Hogwarts. The school was awash in the generous donation from Morgan Hunter, the staff well-pleased with the improvements to their salaries, the students well-pleased with the improvements to the menu. The most amazing witch on earth was in love with him. Everything was going along swimmingly.
Even Potter was less bothersome than usual. His college plans had solidified, he'd earned the required N.E.W.T.s to begin Aurora training at Felbridge, and seemed of late to be more attentive than usual to Miss Weasley, leaving him to wonder if yet another wedding announcement was to be issued in the near future. The post-exam ball had gone well, the students welcoming the unexpected celebration. He'd consented to dance publicly with Morgan, despite his rather inexpert steps and with every eye in the school locked onto this unprecedented event. He hadn't hexed or jinxed a single student, despite strong temptation. With Winder off his back, the money troubles of the school well in check, and the prospect of the students leaving shortly left him nearly giddy, if not a bit less surly than usual.
He would see her shortly, with nothing on their agenda together other than enjoyment and anticipation. They had bowed to the inevitable and paused their research, given that their student assistants would so shortly be departing, leaving them no way to work efficiently, though he shuddered to think of the effort required to train a mostly new crop of volunteers in the fall. He turned his mind to more pleasant thoughts. They would gather all kinds of useful New World specimens on their honeymoon/"school business" trip around the summer solstice (once they'd ironed out a few pesky details around his travel and probation). They could simply enjoy one another's company without the burden of tasks to accomplish. Such a rare moment, one that he savored.
Morgan Hunter had awoken with a smile to greet the new day, the sun now up well before she rose and setting at a respectably late hour, after having warmed the air a respectable amount. She expected a reply from Hania and her friends any day now, as she'd sent out the owls with her lengthy message about her recent events, including their wedding announcement and invitation, nearly a week ago.
Despite her approaching poverty, she couldn't have cared less. She had ordered and paid for furnishings for the apartment the school had kindly provided for after their wedding. The Headmaster's apartment, of which Severus had never taken possession, was delightful, sunny and facing southwest from the top floor. It had been difficult for Severus to assess, given his deep connection to the previous occupant, but he managed to find places of honor for Albus Dumbledore's most important personal possessions.
The apartment came with only two bedrooms, but with a modest amount of wand-waving, she was able to expand it to 4 ("In case we have guests," she'd said. He wasn't fooled for a moment. "Hogwarts has plenty of guest rooms. There are no guests I would want staying that close to me."). He hadn't removed the rooms. She'd gone quite barmy in decorating them, spending far too much money, knowing that they would shortly be impoverished. Tapestries, rugs, furniture, tableware, silver, lanterns, from shops here and the States. She'd decided on heavy drapes near the windows, in deference to Severus's sensitive eyes.
She ran her fingers over the new wardrobe she'd bought as a surprise wedding gift for Severus, feeling the soft wool, the plush velvet, crisp linen, and smooth satin linings. Nothing of bright colors nor flashy fashionable styles, but of better fabrics, a more flattering cut, plus a full set of cotton and linen desert clothes. She considered how he must have felt this past year, having no money to spend on clothing for himself, wearing the same thing day after day, wearing a sign of his poverty so publicly. She couldn't wait to see the pleasure on his face after he opened the closet and drawers filled with new things. They were already packed for the honeymoon, in the new traveling trunks she'd ordered to match her own, but embossed with his initials, two S's, intertwined like snakes. He would be pleased, she was sure of it.
Janiss had decided to accept the offer of a teaching assistant here for the following year, to give her time to make plans and apply to either colleges or other professional apprenticeships. Once she and Severus were married, the crystal mines and their profits would be held in trust for her, so she would never need to worry about money. Morgan knew Philipus would have been pleased that their earnings would continue to support his niece. His brother's estrangement had hurt him deeply, especially when word had reached him of having a niece he was not permitted to see. Morgan was determined to fill the void of family for Janiss as best she could, knowing that nothing was the same as her own mother and father and that she was only slightly less than a stranger to Janiss for now. There would be work ahead, and it was likely to take a long time.
Hunter sat up sharply in anticipation as the owls began to arrive at breakfast. She sat in her usual place at the staff table next to Severus, hungrily eating the hot beans and sausages. A large screech owl deposited only a single response, but it was a start. She put a knut in the owl's pocket distractedly and opened the scroll, clearly from Hania. Its smooth velvety surface held all his own warmth and wisdom.
Snape heard Morgan's fork clatter onto the table as she sucked in her breath. Glancing aside, he took in the change in her mood from lively to pale and ashen faced. She looked at him with anxiety in her eyes.
"What is it?" he asked uselessly.
"I can't say now, just meet me in my office after the first morning classes." She crammed in the last few bites of her breakfast and scurried out to her first class, pocketing the scroll as she went. Snape's eyes followed her, barely noticing the swish of her dark green robes he would ordinarily have admired, troubled as he was running down the possibilities for what the content of the scroll could be.
After a class period of little value, his being distracted by her reaction to the message and the students being distracted by the approaching end of term and N.E.W.T.s being over, he rushed across the hall where she sat already. She closed the door and gestured for him to sit, while she continued to pace the confines of the space. With no greeting or touch, she began.
"I wrote to Hania just after we got engaged," she started, gesturing with the scroll. "I told him everything, about you and us and our plans. About how we were to be married and how important it was for me to have him there to perform the traditional ceremonies."
"Did he refuse?" Snape asked, aghast. "On what grounds? Perhaps he has been reading the Daily Prophet and he disapprove of your choice of husbands?" His tone was decidedly testy and he gripped the arms of the chair repeatedly.
She turned, not looking at him directly, which he now found even more disconcerting that her usual direct stare. "No. Well, not exactly. It's more of a delay than a refusal. I should just read it to you."
She began to unroll the scroll. "I can read it myself," he said. Despite his previous exchange of messages with Hania, he still stung at the thought that this stranger would dare intrude on their plans and timing. She handed it over without any of the resistance he expected from her as a matter of course. He unrolled it, feeling the softness of the vellum. No flashes of vision or feelings and emotions came through like his previous message. The letters on the page, though familiar, made no sense to him.
"He's written it in code," Snape snapped, rolling it up and resisting the urge to crumple it. "I suppose he would be suspicious of me, given what he may have read in the papers."
Hunter laughed and took back the scroll, grinning at his consternation. "It isn't a code, Severus. He's written it in our native language, that's all. As I said," she repeated pointedly, "I should just read it to you."
He growled slightly, but sat opposite her desk, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair and shifting impatiently.
"My dear Kasa," she began, reading slowly as she translated.
"Kasa is your real name?" His brow furrowed. There was much about her that he didn't know, much he hoped to learn on their honeymoon trip to her home, but even something as elemental as her name? The realization of how much he might truly not know, despite how much they'd shared, shamed him. How could he not even know the name of his soon-to-be-wife?
She looked up, startled by the interruption before she even got to the body of the message. "No, not exactly. Names are a bit fluid in my culture. Kasa means 'wearing furs.' It's a kind of nickname, his little joke, that refers to the fact that I am so far away from home in a place that is so cold. But it isn't like a formal name, an unchanging name that you would have."
"Do you have another name other than Morgan, one that your family gave you?" he asked.
She felt his growing unease, his unsure footing with her culture playing a larger role than it had before, when they hadn't been planning a lifetime together. "Even the name I was given after birth was not intended as my name forever. We usually go through many names as we go through life, at different points. I've kept the name Morgan for a long time, for professional reasons, but I was called as Nova when I was a small child, which means someone who chases butterflies, Shumana once I started school, because I used to like to capture rattlesnakes, and Kaiah, which means little but wise. I was given that name after being in school for a while. People change as they go through life, and our naming traditions reflect this."
He pondered the wisdom of this in contrast to the fixed notions of character more common to European culture, and British Magical culture in particular. Names were passed from generation to generation, family traits assumed to be consistent in children. Even Hogwarts sorted witches and wizards before they'd even had any proper Magical education at all, a decision that delivered a rather self-fulfilling prophecy. If you put an ordinary witch in a house full of people who believe that they are the smartest in the school, she will probably tend to spend a lot of time studying and become what she's been told she is. Tell an ordinary wizard he belongs with others who tend to become Dark Wizards, put him with the children of Death Eaters, and he will see himself through that same lens. Dumbledore may have been right about Sorting too early.
He seemed satisfied with her explanation, so she continued, her voice drawing him out of his thoughts.
"I received your message with great anticipation and joy. How pleased I am to know that you are well, with a fully recovery due to this remarkable new potion. I look forward to meeting your intended in the very near future. He must be a truly remarkable wizard to have created this novel formula, and to have won your heart.
"It is a great honor that you should invite me to perform your marriage, my friend. I am humbled and give you my wholehearted support. The time is not right, however. When you left Sedona, you had not yet completed your healing after the shock of losing Phillipus. This and the trauma you have experienced since then suggest that you need to complete that process before you'll be able to give yourself completely, body and soul, to your husband. Marriage, to be full, must be between two people who are able to give themselves to one another, with as much of their past damage resolved as possible. Surely this is your intent, a gift you will give your partner.
"I will come, at the time you've asked. The others will accompany me, as well. But our first duty will be to cleanse you, make you ready once again to take on this next era of your life. We will talk more after I arrive, but you already know what you need and why. Surrounded by those who love you, we will be with you all the way.
"I will be overjoyed then to wed you to this wizard when the time is right."
She continued to read down the words, but stopped translating them word for word. "He just goes on from there about how many rooms they'll need, supplies he will bring and what he needs from us." She rolled the letter back up and placed it on her desk.
He eyed her carefully, trying to understand what all this meant to her, to get some sense of what Hania was implying. She needed some kind of healing, but what? She didn't meet his eyes, as though she were ashamed in some way. He rose and came to her, drawing her up to him. "I, too, will be here for you, Kasa." At his attempt to use this new name, she managed a weak smile. "Of course, I am disappointed to have to wait longer, but I have waited this long. A few more weeks will change nothing for me." He held her and continued. "Perhaps it will be for the best, after all. The students will be gone by then, school business at an end, leaving us fewer distractions and more time to focus on the event." Despite her moving more closely into his embrace, he sensed her tension, rather than relaxation. He waited, knowing she had more to say, concerned that he did not truly know what her healing tradition would involve. Regardless, he would be there for her, whatever she needed.
After a time, she pulled away and sat down, not looking at him. She must be in great need of healing, she was clearly in distress. Either that or the healing process was formidable. Finally, she reached for his hand and pulled him to sit next to her. She met his eyes with her unwavering gaze. He wasn't sure which was more unsettling, when she avoided his gaze or when she was so direct.
"I take it there's more to this than just a few potions and some spells," he said cautiously.
She nodded. "Have you heard of a sweat lodge, Severus?"
He tried to remember his reading about New World Magic from the summer before. His focus on potions had paid off well with the Scorpion Venom Antidote, but it left his knowledge of other aspects of New World Magic rather thin. "Yes, but I'm not quite clear on how the Magic in it works."
"It's a combination of simple physical cleansing and endurance and the Magic from the elements used and those who guide you through it. Done well, you arrive at the end of the ordeal purified, ready to begin your next phase of life."
He nodded, remembering reading about the super-heated tents that were set up for the purpose, the careful selection of stones for the heat, the wood and skins used in the construction, the incantations spoken to prepare the water and the space. But most of all, he recalled the endurance it required to complete the experience. Most people who underwent this kind of spiritual healing did so in multiple sessions, cooling in between before the heat completely overtook them. He was already concerned for her, despite her strength.
"You are strong, Morgan. I will be there with you, to help in any way I can," he said firmly.
She regarded him cautiously, unprepared for his reaction. "I know, Severus. But I don't only need you to help me. I need you to undergo the purification, as well. For yourself."
Snape drew back sharply, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean? I need healing? I am fine, Morgan. Even the very conscientious Madam Pomfrey has declared the Blood Builder series complete." He waved her words away. "I will be there for you," he repeated.
She grasped his hands and pulled him gently back to her. "Severus, the sweat lodge can heal damaged souls, but it can also rid them of demons. You need to be rid of yours."
His eyes shot open wide, what little color he had draining from his face. "My demon?" he said warily.
She nodded. "Demons have auras, too, like clouds of filthy pollution. I've seen yours, during the duel. That's why I was so aggressive. I hoped to destroy the demon."
"Instead you nearly destroyed me!" he shot back, drawing further away from her.
She leaned forward, taking his hand in hers. "I never wanted to hurt you, only to try to release you from it. How long have you had this thing haunting you?" she asked imploringly.
Snape released himself from her grip and leaned back dismissively, crossing his long legs. "Too long. I've learned to handle it. It had no bearing on us."
Hunter persisted. "I failed to rid you of it, it isn't gone. It's still there. I've seen it since then."
Snape, too, persisted. "As I said, it has no bearing on us." His tone, dismissive of her concerns, grated on her nerves, already frayed from the letter itself.
"It will grow again." Hunter kept her voice even and solid, trying not to shout or grab him by his lapels and shake him. Nor to draw her wand, though her wand-hand was getting twitchy.
"I will manage it!" he snapped back testily, noting her clenching wand-hand.
She continued her fixed gaze. "Severus, when I marry you, I will marry only you. I won't marry you and a demon. You must rid yourself of it before we marry. A sweat lodge will cleanse you, free you from it. I need you to do this."
His gaze was equally fixed, equally determined. "As I said, Morgan, I can manage the demon on my own."
Her stomach turned. She had expected his surprise that she knew of the demon, she'd never mentioned it before, but her frank ultimatum had brought out his deep stubbornness and resistance. Now her own stubbornness was kindled. "How long has it been with you? If you can indeed manage it, why have you not rid yourself of it long ago? I meant what I said, I cannot marry both you and the demon. Marriage is not just lovey-dovey moments, Severus. It is for the rest of our lives, good times and bad. I need you to be fully present with me, not compromised by some ugly beast."
"And I will be fully present with you, forever. But I will manage the demon my way, Morgan."
She told herself that she shouldn't read too much into his reaction. His temperament was always one of privacy, taking care of himself without any others intruding. It was likely that he would always be so. She questioned how comfortable she would be with that characteristic as the years went by. She needed to make herself and her position clear.
"I give you until Hania and the others arrive," she stated deliberately. "If the demon isn't gone, fully gone, I need you to be ready to do this."
Snape growled, then stood and paced the room, hands clasped behind his back. Her office now seemed tiny, claustrophobic and confining. He wanted to escape, wanted a moment on his own, but wasn't willing to walk out on Morgan.
Morgan watched him, observing his resistance, his discomfort with her request. The ordeal that lay ahead for her was considerable, but for those with demons, it was even more difficult, as one had to be so much stronger than the demon, to withstand so much more, and drive it out completely. The longer a demon had been with a person, the more difficult it was. She didn't know for sure how long this demon had infested Severus, but she suspected it had been many years. Demons found young people under great stress irresistible. Certainly that had been the case in the first Wizarding War. So possibly 15 to 20 years. But it may have happened sooner. Regardless, he needed to eradicate the demon fully. Their duel and her hexes had nearly driven it out, but it had clearly not been a fully eradication. Any small remainder would regrow, gain strength, and resume its torment.
Later that night, before sleep would come, he lay awake, thinking of the sweat lodge. He would be there for her. He'd pledged to do anything, and he meant it. He would expel the demon on his own, in his own way, before the New World contingent arrived. Then she wouldn't be able to argue with him about not being ready. And he was so ready. With every kiss, every embrace, he felt more acutely his desire to be married, to know that she was his forever, that he would be Bound to her. The longer it was delayed, the more chances he had to foul up, to ruin things, to offend her, the demon offering constant reminders of that fact. It needed to be soon. He'd tried to feign nonchalance at the delay, but in truth, there was nothing worse for him to imagine than himself given time and opportunity to destroy his own happiness.
And foul it up, you will, the demon said acidly. There is no other possibility for you. Once she's gone, you will be completely mine.
"You will be gone soon," he told the demon, only to hear its mocking laughter.
Yes, this time, at long last, you will desert me. You've tried and failed so many times. Your curses damaging your own body, nor all the foolish duels you took on as a boy, nor the cold of the waters, not even the bite of the snake that nearly killed you, couldn't drive me away fully. What could you possibly do to me now?
Snape offered no reply, but his plans were already taking shape in his mind.
Morgan lay awake that evening, as had become her habit since her stay in the infirmary. Hania was right, she knew that. She needed to finish healing; she'd been foolish to run off before she'd finished, but the opportunity to escape had been too tempting. Despite as complete a change in her life as she could imagine, visions of Phillipus dead, waves guilt, the darkness and emptiness afterward had continued to plague her here. She felt well now, but in time, they would return. A new life had beckoned, at the same moment that the old one had no place for her. To be ready for her next step forward, she must first go back, to complete the difficult steps she'd tried to avoid before. How could she take care of Severus and any children they might have if she didn't take care of herself first? She owed it to them to seek the treatment that was right, to do what it took. She must be able to give herself completely to a husband, as freely and fully as possible. There was more she'd need to endure before calling herself ready. She steeled herself for the journey ahead, knowing she would prevail and come out of the experience purified and stronger than before. He was worth it. Her only hope was that he would come around to accept the sweat lodge without an argument. That would only make the process more difficult for him, and therefore more difficult for her, as she would be his companion to the process.
She drew the Solarium garment, now made into a blanket, around herself more tightly in the darkness. The warmth was comforting, but starting to wane. She'd drawn so much out of it already, having needed so much. She couldn't rely on these kinds of Magic, outside Magical things, to heal her. She needed to heal herself, from within, to truly be free. It wouldn't be long, only two weeks. She was already starting to sweat.